


As Good as Gold

by Ford_Ye_Fiji



Category: Five Nights at Freddy's
Genre: AU, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, But Also!, F/M, Fluff, Fluff and Angst, Found Family, Gen, I really need to catch up, I still live in 2014 apparently, Ive written a lot already, I’m so sorry, I’ve been wanting to write this since 2015, Mostly Gen, Not Canon Compliant, Rated mature for Mike's excessive language, also, also it’s a very mild mature, and normal fnaf stuff, but - Freeform, dont worry, i think, ish, its all planned out at least, much angst, not even close to canon compliant, ok theres a relationship, sister location? Who’s that, ya'll can ignore it easily, yeeeesss
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-08-31
Updated: 2020-02-01
Packaged: 2020-10-03 17:34:46
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 25
Words: 30,024
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/20456795
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ford_Ye_Fiji/pseuds/Ford_Ye_Fiji
Summary: Mike Schmidt had absolutely no idea what he was getting into when he applied to Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria. He certainly wasn’t expecting murderous animatronics, the ghosts of dead children, or what was possibly the worst pizzeria in the world would change his life forever.-“Gold opens all locks, no lock will hold against the power of gold."





	1. won’t you come and play the gray man's game

**Author's Note:**

> SO!!!! I finally decided it was time to post! I’m not done writing it, but I’m super close and I really wanted to share it with you all! I’ve been wanting to write this fic since I first discovered fnaf, but I just couldn’t get it right XD 
> 
> but enough rambling. This fic really just messes around with canon, and not just filling in the holes. I’ve gone back to old stuff, like fnaf 1, Foxy did the bite of ‘87 type stuff. I’m also disregarding that fnaf 2 takes place before 1 and some of the Fazbear's fright canon. Ugh I’m just so nervous, I’ve poured so much time into this, it’s fueled solely by my love for Mike and spooky things and found family :P

**Part 1: The Night Shift **

Mike Schmidt straightened his thin black tie, grimacing at the tight fit of his baby blue uniform. The dark pizzeria was too hot, far too hot even for the sheer material of the long sleeved button down. Mike grimaced and rolled up his sleeves, unbuttoning the cuffs before he folded them up around his elbows. 

Feeling a little better, he turned and marched toward the office. His night guard hat on the counter made him pause. Mike sighed and then snagged it off of the counter. He eyed it carefully before grimacing and putting it on, covering his shock of dull dun hair completely. He could already feel his skull being squeezed by the thick band of black elastic. The last guy who’d worn the uniform had been tall and thin if the too long and yet too small uniform was anything to go by.

He picked at his frayed dark shoulder straps absentmindedly. Even his name tag was worn, the middle taped up many times from constant abuse, cracks in the black plastic barely visible from underneath the shreds of torn stickers. He could see layers of them with names written hastily in sharpie all by the same crooked hand. He knew because his new boss had scrawled 'Mike' on one and then slapped the sticker over the last name before handing it over with a wide disgustingly fake smile. 

He could just make out an _S_ from under his own name-tag. Well, hopefully his predecessor had moved out of this awful place and onto better and brighter things. The uncharacteristic optimism had him curling his lips with distaste. No doubt the former night guard was busting his ass at some other equally trashy fast food place.Though even that seemed like an improvement compared to here, Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. Mike shuddered under the glassy eyes of the animatronics and scuttled towards his office. 

The clock ticked steadily towards twelve as the twenty-three year old relaxed in the precarious rolling chair, grimacing as it squeaked in protest at his thin frame. Mike kicked his feet up, fiddling with the tablet for the cameras. The boss (Alfred call me 'Al') had explained his set up earlier that week in a jovial tone that set Mike's teeth on edge, the employees who had to deal with him during the day had the patience of a saint. The heavy thickset man never stopped spouting company lines about the joys of Freddy Fazbear's, nor did he ever seem to remove the cigar from between his puffy lips. The man was unmovable when it came to company policy. He hadn’t even allowed Mike to wear anything comfortable to work, citing the uniform as a required and honorable symbol of the Fazbear establishment. He’d tacked on at the end of it too, that he should be grateful it wasn’t worse. Apparently the old uniforms had been purple. 

Mike's nose wrinkled at the remembered speech. The man was full of bullshit. 

Mike needed the job though, which was why he’d taken it. It couldn’t be too hard, right? Watch a couple creepy animatronics, make sure no one broke in to steal them, maybe try not to fall asleep. Perhaps if he got too bored he could remove the unsettling cartoonish company posters from the wall of his office. 

Mike relaxed and the whine of the generators and the fan became a steady hum in the background. He eyed the heavy doors skeptically, lips thinning. Al had pressed the red door buttons for him on his impromptu tour and laughed when he jumped as what seemed to be quite a few pounds of steel slammed into the ground with surprising force. He’d given no explanation for their purpose. What did he expect to try and get in here? The national guard? 

The clock struck twelve and Mike jumped as the bright red phone on the desk rang insistently.

" _Hello. Hello, hello? Uh, I wanted to record a message for you to help you get settled in on your first night. Um, I actually worked in that office before you. I’m finishing up my last week now as a matter of fact._"

Mike raised an eyebrow, ah this was S. He set his chin in his hands and flipped through the cameras again, idly listening to the fuzzy message on the landline. 

" _So, I know it can be a bit overwhelming, but I’m here to tell you there’s nothing to worry about. Uh, you’ll do fine. So, let’s just focus on getting you through your first week. Okay?_ "

Mike scoffed. Overwhelming? Hardly. 

" _Uh, let’s see first there’s an introductory greeting from the company that I’m supposed to read. Uh, i- it’s kind of a legal thing, you know. Um, 'Welcome to Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. A magical place for kids and grown-ups alike, where fantasy and fun come to life._ " 

Mike snorted. Al had probably made him read that. What an asshole. Phone guy continued speaking blithely, oblivious to his successor's amusement about his former boss. 

" _Fazbear Entertainment is not responsible for damage to property or person. Upon discovering that damage or death has occurred, a missing person report will be filed within 90 days, or as soon as property and premises have been throughly cleaned and bleached, and the carpets have been replaced. Blah blah blah._ " 

Mike had straightened over the course of his shpiel, something cold trailing down his spine like ghostly fingertips. 

" _Now, that might sound bad, I know, but there’s really nothing to worry about._ " 

Mike spluttered, "Are you serious?"

Phone Guy kept talking and Mike's mouth snapped shut as he nattered on, " _Uh, the animatronic characters here do get a bit  quirky  at night, but do I blame them? No. If I were forced to sing those same stupid songs for twenty years and I never got a bath? I’d probably be a bit irritable at night too. So remember, these characters hold a special place in the hearts of children and we need to show them a little respect, right? Okay. _"

Mike mouthed cautiously, " _Quirky?_ "

" _So just be aware, the characters do tend to wander a bit. Uh, they’re left in some kind of free roaming mode at night. Uh... Something about their servos locking up if they get turned off for too long. Uh, they used to be allowed to walk around during the day too. But then there was The Bite of ‘87. Yeah. I- it’s amazing that the human body can live without the frontal lobe, you know?_ " 

Mike squeaked. What was this guy on? What the fu-

“ _Uh, now concerning your safety, the only real risk to you as a night watchman here, if any, is the fact that these characters, Uh, if they happened to see you after hours, probably won’t recognize you as a person. They’ll p- most likely see you as a metal Endoskeleton without its costume on. Now since that’s against the rules here at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza, they’ll probably try to... uh, forcefully stuff you inside a Freddy Fazbear suit. Um, now that wouldn’t be so bad if the suits themselves weren’t filled with crossbeams, wires, and animatronic devices, especially around the facial area. So, you could imagine how having your head forcefully pressed inside one of those could cause a bit of discomfort... and death._ " 

_Whatthefuckwhatthefuckwhatthefuck_ -

Phone Guy continued on, something macabre in his cheerful tone, " _Uh, the only parts of you that would likely see the light of day again would be your eyeballs and teeth when they pop out the front of the mask, heh._ " 

_WHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCKWHATTHEFUCK_\- 

" _Y- Yeah they don’t tell you these things when you sign up. But hey, first day should be a breeze. I’ll chat with you tomorrow._ " 

Mike looked down at his tablet, still clutched in his white-knuckled hands. His eyes widened, mouth dry as a chill settled in his bones. The purple rabbit animatronic was missing from the stage.

" _Uh, check those cameras, and remember to close the doors only if absolutely necessary. Gotta conserve power. Alright, good night._ "

Mike panicked flipping through the sections till he found it, nearly jumping out of his skin as he saw the looming black shadow of the bunny staring into the camera, almost as if it knew he was there, watching them. 

Mike looked down, and then shut the tablet down when he saw the power. 49%. His mind whirled. He’d been wasting power simply looking at the cameras. He glanced at the doors and lights, stomach twisting itself in knots. Oh god. He couldn’t barricade himself in here by closing the doors without sucking down the power before 6 am.  _Who_ had designed this shit system? 

The longest five minutes of his life passed before he risked checking the cameras again. The bunny was gone. He flipped frantically through the cameras before finding it again, standing in the middle of the dining area and  _grinning_ at him. 

Mike tried to calm his pounding heart, cursing his family's history of high blood pressure. He could do this. He could do this. 

And he did, just managing to keep his panicking to a minimum and flipping through the cameras as little as possible. Right until 5 am rolled around and the chicken vanished from the stage. Al had insisted they had names and Mike had foolishly thought it was stupid talking about them as if they were alive. 

He was so stupid. So fucking stupid. 

He flipped through the cameras sweating bullets, almost physically feeling the power draining. The bunny, Bonnie, Al had called it, was looming at the end of the hallway to his right. Had it teleported? The thing was  fast . And so was the chicken, Chica, it’s bright feathers just visible in the hallway to his left. 

They were  _cornering_ him. Herding him like some sort of caged animal. Mike swallowed, flicking the lights to his right. Bonnie grinned at him through the window and Mike shrieked, slamming the door button.

A moment later he realized that he’d forgotten about Chica, he flipped up the cameras, but the chicken had moved back to the restrooms, beak hanging open ominously. Mike whimpered, who put teeth in a chicken animatronic? Had they never seen a damn chicken before? Didn’t they know chickens didn’t fuckin'  _have_ teeth? 

19% 

Mike slammed down the tablet refusing to look at it again. 

Bonnie staring unblinkingly at him outside his door. 

The numbers dropped steadily.

The rabbit seemed to grow bored around 15% and wandered off again. Mike breathed out with relief as he let the door up and flicked the lights on in the other side of the room as an afterthought. Chica leered at him from the left and Mike slammed that door down, heart pounding. 

He couldn’t  _do_ anything. The numbers dropped, somehow going down faster the lower it got. He needed it to move! Mike snapped at the chicken who had stuck stubbornly there for ten precious percentage points, "Oh  _fuck_ off, will you?"

Chica vanished. 

Mike gaped. 

Had it understood him? 

He flicked the lights. 

It was gone. 

He pulled up the cameras, carefully. Bonnie had retreated to the dining room. Chica was nowhere to be found. He clicked frantically through the cameras before landing on the kitchen, the audio clattering like pots and pans. He didn’t want to know what it was doing in there, just as long as it was far away from him. 

He allowed himself a moment of satisfaction before he noticed the numbers. Two percent. 

Mike dropped the tablet on the table. His fingers itched but he didn’t dare pick it up again, instead choosing to hold his breath and listen as hard as he could for heavy metal footsteps. The damn things were unnaturally quiet, however, and he didn’t hear a thing except the buzzing of the fan. 

A whisper in the room and the hairs on the back of his neck prickled- he turned the lights on, slamming the door button when he saw Bonnie glaring at him with crimson eyes through the window. 

That damn rabbit-! 

The lights went out interrupting his frantic train of thought, and the power died with a whoosh. 

Mike was plastered to his seat, breath stolen from his lungs as he waited in the sudden darkness. Everything was quiet and still, the whole world muted in a flash. Mike gulped audibly as the Toreador March echoed throughout the restaurant. White wide eyes blinked at him, flickering on and off. 

Oh fuck. 

This was how he was going to die.

Animatronics were going to stuff him in a suit, he was going to end up as bits and pieces of gore jammed into some fucking robot suit in a shitty family restaurant with pizza that tasted like ass.

He braced himself as the music went silent and the eyes blinked out. 

Something, however, in the distance, chimed. 

A clock. 

Six peals and then, the lights flickered on.

_6 am. _

Mike breathed out, a hand pressed to his racing heart, head between his knees. 

The animatronics were gone. 

He’d made it. 

And like hell was he ever going to do that shit again. 

* * *

Mike waited until ten minutes after six to leave the office. He stumbled past the animatronics in the darkened restaurant and Mike scowled at them perched on the stage as if nothing had ever happened.

He did the mature thing and flipped them off. Mike pushed open the glass doors and frowned at the pickup truck idling in the parking lot. The man leaning on it waved, "Lookit you! You made it!" 

Mike locked the doors of the pizzeria, "Excuse me?" 

The man strolled up, green baseball cap pulled low over white hair, "Oh, I'm Alan. The janitor. I clean up the messes. Me 'n Liam that is." He grinned, scratching the light scruff on his chin. Liam must’ve been the shadow slouched in his pickup, sleeping in the passenger seat.

"The messes?" 

Alan's grin widened, words slurred as he chewed on something, "Suppose you know by now. I  clean up _the messes_ _,_ son. You know what I’m talking about." 

Mike felt himself go pale, "Isn’t that, isn’t that illegal?"

Alan laughed, "Well, shoot, you got 'em. It’s illegal." He snickered and Mike realized what he was chewing from the awful smell-  tobacco , "Naw son, you signed the nondisclosure agreement same as all of us. Can’t spill a word without getting sued."

Mike had signed a big sheet of papers but, he hadn’t- he hadn’t read through the thing- 

Alan chortled at the drawing realization on his face, "You'd think corporate would let word get out that they have demon robots murdering their night watchmen? Heck no. Especially since they’ve been barely keeping the place afloat since those poor children died."

Mike had remembered that rumor before he applied but he hadn’t thought- oh  fuck -

"Say, son, you looking a little gray. You sure they didn’t get a bite outta you?"

Mike snapped, "Oh fuck off, asshole." 

Alan held up his hands, laughing as if the whole thing was a joke, "Whoa there, son, you’ve got some fire in ya, don’t you?"

He stormed away toward his dented car under the street lamp, "Tell Al that I quit!" 

"Hey, wait, you can’t do that-!" 

Mike whirled, "And why the hell not?" 

Alan nodded at the pizzeria behind him, suddenly somber, "At least half of the night guards don’t get past the first night, and as soon as you’re gone the boss'll just hire another. And I’ll have another mess to clean up soon enough." 

Mike blinked. 

"There'll be another missing person report eighty-nine days later, the company will pay off any worried relatives, keep everything hush hush, and people will keep dying." 

Mike threw up his hands, "So? Why not just get rid of the position?"

Alan shrugged, "Better one man a night than the whole block. Who the hell knows what’ll happen if they get out?" 

His adrenaline was wearing off as he stood in the cold parking lot, so Mike bid a tactical retreat from the janitor's disturbingly rational explanations, gave him the bird as well, and resumed his walk to the car. 

Alan shook his head watching the new night guard collapse into his car and drive off. The kid would be back, he could feel it in his bones. 

Something told him he wouldn’t have to clean up another body for a good long while. 


	2. move quick, be an artful dodger

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah sorry this was late! Things were crazy yesterday and I didn’t have any time to update! I should warn y’all though, Part 1 is a bit slow. It’s mostly just me trying to set everything up :P

**Part 1: The Nightshift**

Mike was batshit crazy. 

He had to be. There was no way in hell he was back in that red plastic swivel chair, tablet slick in his suddenly sweaty palms. 

Somehow he was. 

He needed the money though. He’d been living out of his car for a week and even if the pay was shit, it was just enough combined with the money from his day job to help him afford an apartment.

And no, he wasn’t here because of Alan's dumbass speech. He wasn’t some bleeding heart trying to save people too stupid to save themselves from three ridiculous murder robots. 

Mike shuddered as the phone rang. 

"_Err, hello! Hello? Uhh... well, if you're hearing this, you made it to day two. Uhh, congrats! I-I won't talk quite as long this time since Freddy and his friends tend to become more active as the week progresses._" 

Mike gaped remembering his near brush with death just last night, "Are you shitting me?"

"_Umm...you might need to go ahead and peek at those cameras while I talk; just to make sure everyone is in their proper place, ya know?_" 

Mike cursed and flicked through the cameras cautiously as Phone Guy continued. 

"_Uhh, interestingly enough, Freddy himself doesn't come off stage very often. I heard he becomes a lot more active in the dark, though, sooo hey, I guess that's one more reason not to run out of power, right? I also want to emphasize the importance of using your door lights: uhh, there are blind-spots in your camera views and the blind spots happen to be right outside your door, so if you can't find something, or someone on your cameras, be sure to check the door-lights._" 

Mike rolled his eyes as he spat out under his breath, "Your warning was a little late there, _buddy_." 

"_Uhh, you might have only a few seconds to react, but... not that you would be in any danger of course, I'm not implying that._" 

Mike sighed, the guy probably didn’t want to get sued for breaking 'company policy' by warning the guards about the slaughter they were in for. 

"_Also: check on the curtain in Pirate Cove from time to time; the character in there seems unique in that it becomes more active if the cameras remain off for long periods of time. I guess he doesn't like being watched. I don't know._"

Mike flipped the cameras to pirate cove, swallowing back the knot of fear hiding in the back of his throat. _Four_ ridiculous murder robots then. Fan-_fucking_-tastic.

"_Anyway, I'm sure you have everything under control. Uhh... talk to you soon!_”

The phone clicked off, the air chilled unnaturally, and Mike settled in for a long night. 

* * *

Night two and three passed relatively quickly though the latter ended with Mike burying his head in his hands trying to breathe through the panic attack Foxy had brought on. How the hell did such a busted up trash heap run so fast? He shuddered as he thought of the gleaming rows upon rows of razor sharp teeth and the silver wickedly pointed hook. He’d thought Freddy was bad, blocking cameras with his shadowy silhouette and piercingly white pinpoint pupils. 

It took a good ten minutes but his breathing evened out, his heart slowed, and the room stopped spinning in odd little jerks. Worst of all, tonight, he could’ve sworn he heard whispers, something guttural in the back of his head, in some hellish language he couldn’t understand. The damn job was giving him hallucinations. 

He didn’t want to think back to when they’d started, unintelligible and triggering some sort of visceral horror in his brain. They’d began after he’d blinked and seen that golden bear suit, a perfect replica of Freddy slumped in the office- glitching and shimmering, hissing through an imaginary grin, "_**IT'S ME.**_" Entirely translucent and hallucinogenic except for its empty eyes begging him for _something_. 

Mike rubbed his aching eyes with his palms and jumped when he heard a familiar rasping voice, "Oh good. I was worried I’d have to check the back room for you, son." 

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose, "_Fuck off,_ Alan." 

Alan _tsked_ and looked around the room, "Ah, the room where all the magic happens. Say, is it chilly in here or what?" He rubbed his arms, "I thought it usually ran hot in here." The janitor eyed the fan as if, perhaps, it was the culprit. 

Mike glowered at him and Alan whistled, "Go home and sleep it off son, you’re sporting some impressive eye bags there." 

Mike checked the watch on his left hand and sighed, "I don’t have time for your crap I’ve got to go clean an auto parts store in thirty minutes." 

Alan raised a bushy eyebrow, "If you keep working two jobs you’ll get sleep deprived, mess up, and get stuffed, son."

Mike's lip curled, anger fueled because he knew he was right- that his death was inevitable. No one could go very long without making one mistake and that’s all it would take for him to get brutally, mercilessly killed. 

Phone Guy had though. 

That cheerful sonvabitch was off living his best life. Mike's usually low spirits lifted, "I’d like to see those bastards try." He stood, picking up his jacket from the back of the chair and leaving down the east hallway, his voice echoing, "You hear that shitheads? You aren’t getting any of _this_ sweet ass anytime soon!" 

Alan pretended not to hear the bell jingle violently from all the way across the pizzeria, as well as Mike's distant irritated, "Outta my way, Liam!" 

Alan shook his head, "He’s a cocky SOB huh, Scott?" He patted the shiny red phone, the only piece of equipment that looked as if it had been bought sometime in the last decade, "Think he'll do us proud?" 

After a moment of silence, Alan nodded, grinning wryly, "Me too." 


	3. a memorial, a crescendo, of hysteria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ah! This update is on time! Also, as you can see the story now has a projection of 25 chapters!! That’s because I’ve just about finished writing it ^^ I'm confident I won’t jinx anything if I promise that this story won’t be abandoned halfway through <3

**Part 1: The Nightshift**

Mike settled down, sleeves rolled up to his elbows, and feeling positively sick despite the draft. The phone rang. Mike waited for Phone Guy's usual rambling messages. Sometimes he could be annoyingly vague, disturbingly unconcerned, and sickeningly positive about certain aspects of the Job From Hell, but he’d sort of become a companion. Someone who had experienced his share of hell and stayed remarkably human through it all. 

"_Hello, hello! Hey! Hey wow, day four... I knew you could do it._" 

Mike flipped through the cameras, used to the routine of it all by now. He would never admit it, but hearing Phone Guy's voice was strangely reassuring. 

"_Hey, listen....I might not be around to send you a message tomorrow._" Mike paused, jerking upwards as he heard Foxy's familiar slamming. It took a minute for him to realize where it was coming from, the ominous banging fizzing distantly through the recording from the phone. 

Mike felt something icy slide down his back. 

"_It’s-It’s been a bad night here_." More relentless banging that made Mike cower in remembered terror. 

He’d thought his fellow night watchman had made it. 

He’d thought wrong. 

"_For me. Umm... I-I’m kinda glad that I recorded my messages for you..._" Phone Guy cleared his throat, "_er, when I did._" 

Mike waited breathlessly. He knew what was coming and so did his nameless, faceless guardian. 

"_H-hey, do me a favor:_" The former night guard tried to speak over the deafening pounding on the metal doors, "_maybe sometime, eh, you could check inside those suits, in-in the back room?_" More pounding. The animalistic instinct for self preservation he’d developed over the week panicked and kept ringing alarm bells at the banging over the recording. 

The man rasped, voice thick, speaking a dead man's words, the phone merely a mouthpiece for the long gone, "_I’ma try to hold out...until someone...checks. Maybe it won’t be so bad._" Something ached, to know that this was how it all ended for the one person who knew what it was like facing certain death every night for four bucks an hour. 

"_I- I- I always wondered what was in those empty heads...back there-_" the chime Mike had heard from the first night played faintly in a cheerful sort of melody, "_You know... Oh no-_" he cut off. 

Mike grimaced as some sort of horrible warbled screeching filled with static overwhelmed the phone's speakers. He heard one last gargle, disturbingly human against such an inhuman wail, before the speaker cut out. 

Mike jumped as he heard something creak and he reacted on instinct alone, slamming the door button down to his right. Mike was breathing heavily something shining wetly in his eyes. 

Mike turned the light on and Bonnie leered at him. Mike stood, trembling with some newfound fury, "You motherfuckers!" He kicked the red swivel chair, "You murdered him!" A rage he didn’t know he possessed filled him, the air tinted yellow. 

Without really intending to, Phone Guy had become some sort of symbol in his mind, a hope, that _someone_ could make it. That death wasn’t inevitable in the end. He’d become a friendly face, or voice really. 

The animatronic left after a moment, red eyes blazing with something undefinable. The overwhelming wrath settled uncomfortably in his chest and Mike shook his head, coming back to his senses. He opened the door, flipping through the cameras quickly, dreading the night, that newfound hope shattered. 

He couldn’t seem to get in air, eyes wild as he looked for the monstrous machines hunting him down, trying to avoid his new undeniable truth. 

Death was inevitable, it would come for him in the end, and it would be to the tune of the Toreador March. 


	4. Phantasmagorical

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *trips over the stairs and faceplants onto the floor* IM LATE 
> 
> Sorry I’m late I had a lot of stuff to take care of! But I’m here now and with news! This chapter has a new POV :D)

**Part 1: The Nightshift **

Chica watched the Night Guard leave their pizzeria promptly at 6:01 for once, shoulders hunched and shaking. She clacked her teeth together with annoyance, watching him escape unscathed and unashamed of his blatant disobedience of Fazbear rules. 

She tried to ignore the murmurs of her Child whimpering in the back of her head and spoke, "That Endoskeleton has a foul mouth." 

Bonnie scoffed from his place on the stage, rolling his red optics, "You got that right, and he doesn’t even put anything in the swear jar afterwords!" There was a strange strained undertone in his usual playfulness and Chica opened her beak to question it but Freddy hushed them in garbled tones.

His voice module was still on the fritz after the lucky hit that last Night Guard had gotten in. Chica didn't think she’ll ever forget it. The endoskeleton's thin fingers frantically reaching, wedging themselves under Freddy's worn suit, snagging on a cluster of colorful wires and _pulling_, "No.. ta_a_alking... s- si_x-x-x_-x-" 

Chica patted the bear's shoulder with one of her tattered yellow wings, "There, there, Freddy. We'll be quiet now." 

She returned to her default pose, servos whirring. She could already feel them stiffening at the inactivity. 

Chica's bright optics caught sight of Foxy peering out of the curtain at Pirate's Cove before vanishing again, silver hook gleaming. They hadn’t had time to talk to him since the new Night Guard had taken over a mere week after the last one had been put away. 

She missed him. She couldn’t imagine what it was like, all alone in the darkness of the abandoned Pirate's Cove everyday, listening to the children playing and not being able to join in. 

The Child whimpered as the car started up outside. Chica let her eyes wander, watching it speed away, their rude rogue Endoskeleton inside. 

Their creator really needed to design better Endoskeletons. They didn’t seem to fit inside any suits and broke almost immediately no matter how careful they were. They were ridiculously delicate and soft and utterly unsuitable. She almost giggled. _Literally_. 

The Child in the back of her head wailed, growing bolder at the Night Guard's absence. It pulled insistently at her insides, harsh whispers guttural and too jumbled to be understood clearly. Despair, fear, and hatred churning together confusingly in a knot of pure unbridled terror, "_notsafenotsafenotsafegetawayfromthenightguardkillkiLLKILL-_“ 

The Children always got upset when the Night Guard got away. Especially this one, far too familiar in his violent outbursts and angry cursing. 

Chica might actually enjoy catching this one. 

Perhaps it was better this time that the flimsy squishy Endoskeletons seemed to break so easily. 

This Night Guard didn’t seem like he’d make a particularly family friendly animatronic anyways. 

* * *

Bonnie, meanwhile, didn’t feel right at all. 

He’d started right on time that night, moving quickly to the door. He’d thought it was his chance to get the Night Guard, maybe this time he’d put this angry endoskeleton to rest for good. But with almost unbelievable speed, the Endo had slammed the button, the door grazing his stained purple fur as it raced towards the ground. 

The Endo had stood, hissing and something cold had shivered down his servos. The Child in his mind shrank away like a dying animal, sniffling and weeping with terror. The Endo had kicked the chair shouting profanities and Bonnie had realized why he was filled with gut-wrenching terror. 

The drop in temperature. The chill pervading his suit and reaching for the child he shielded within, the golden glow filling the office's interior. The unbridled rage pushing against the doors in its intensity. 

Hadn’t the Endo even realized that the fury it was feeling was not entirely it’s own? Bonnie could always tell when his Child took over, uncharacteristic anger forcing him onwards against his will, whipping him into a frenzy. The Night Guard's blue optics had swirled, eyes turned black, glowering at him through white pinprick pupils. The form of Golden Freddy had flickered around the Night Guard, laughing at him. He could hear him now, whispering, "**_IT'S ME. I-I-I- IT'S ME._**" 

Bonnie had retreated down the hallway before he saw what happened, feeling the pressure build in his head at the presence of the fifth ghost. 

Seeing the guard walk out of the building at the end of the night with normal blue optics had made him almost weak with relief. The Endo had shrugged off the other ghost. 

But only this time. What about the next time? Would he be able to resist the ghost's influence? They needed to stuff the Endo before Golden Freddy fully became its suit. It wasn’t just a hunt now, it was a race against time. 

He was jolted out of his thoughts by the click of the key in the lock. The janitor, Alan, shook his head at the three of them, "I take it from the missing car that y’all failed again?" He chuffed and Bonnie wanted to shake him. Didn’t he realize that was a bad thing? 

Alan grinned at him from under his beard, "That Mike, he’s stronger than any of y’all realize. I’ve got a feeling about him. Yer not gonna catch that son of a gun anytime soon. He’s a feisty little thing." 

Humans had sort of a sixth sense about these things and the Child whimpered in his mind, curling into a tighter ball. He would tell the others later, after Alan left. They needed to know what was coming. 


	5. wriggling worms in disarray

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I meant to get this out yesterday XD but uh I had a lot of work to do ajaksksks

**Part 1: The Nightshift**

Was it just him or were the robots especially driven tonight? 

Mike wiped the sweat from his forehead, pushing the shiny brim of his cap upwards as he did it. He shuddered as he remembered settling into Phone Guy's old chair earlier that night. He could’ve sworn he had felt the weight of a million ghosts laying on his shoulders, a hundred night guards who’d done what he was doing now and who’d died doing it. The phone ringing a second later had startled him so badly he’d cursed out the annoyingly bright object. 

The static growls and hellish whispers, something that sounded like words but not in any language he understood, hissing and clanking still made him shiver. The office had been startling empty after the phone had clicked off.

The ominous noises had almost made Mike throw up, but the message had also triggered something furious in him. He was probably a dead man walking, but like hell was he gonna leave this pizzeria now. They’d thrown down the gauntlet and what little common sense he’d had was thrown out the window. 

Mike had never quite been able to let go of a challenge. His mom had often told him he was like a dog with a bone. 

Mike had started scrolling through the cameras, spotting Freddy already on the move, blocking one of the cameras. He’d grinned like a madman and murmured, "Hello, hello you sonvabitch."

That had been four hours ago and Mike was giddy. Five am with 39% power left? Hell, he was on fire tonight. He’d reached some sort of dissociative state around two and now he was high on the adrenaline of it all. Was some sick part of him enjoying this? Perhaps. It wouldn’t last he knew, he’d be back to being completely terrified soon, but not now. Not now. No, he was enjoying rubbing it in the animatronic's faces that he was still alive, still kicking, and that he’d manage to flip the bird at them several times. 

Mike flipped through the cameras and dropped the tablet, slamming the red button down. The door hit the floor and half a second later, Foxy slammed into it at record speeds. Mike stuck out his tongue at the door as the damn thing furiously pounded on it. The steel didn’t move an inch and Mike called out half jokingly as he perused the cameras at record speeds, "Who’s there?"

"**_IT'S ME._**"

Mike jumped nearly half a foot, eyes wide as he searched for the freaky golden bear hallucination that had said that on night three. 

He didn’t see it anywhere. 

Mike jerked back to reality and opened the door before it could drain anymore power. His fickle euphoria was gone, replaced by an itch at the back of his mind. 

Was it just him or was a pressure building in the back of his head? Or was that just the tightness of his hat? 

He checked on Freddy and Foxy quickly before flicking the lights. 

"**_M- M- MiCHaeL..._**" 

Mike glanced around the room. 

It was just a hallucination. It wasn’t real. 

The power had dropped astronomically. Mike blinked, how on earth? 

“**_MIcHaEl..._**" 

"Shut up!" He shut the door on Chica's hideous tooth filled beak, "I don’t have time for a mental breakdown right now!" 

The golden form of the bear flickered in the corner of his eyes and Mike ignored it, picking up the tablet again. It wasn’t there, it wasn’t there, _it wasn’t there. _

"**_He- he- heLp usSsSSs."_**

Mike opened Chica's door and checked on Foxy ignoring the insidious voice and the golden fire growing in the back of his brain and the pressure filling the room like a balloon about to pop. _Notrealnotrealnotreal_-

The clock struck six. 

The bear vanished, the whispers drowned out by the toll of the bell. _Salvation_. 

Mike breathed out and collapsed on the table, head pressed to the sticky wood, hands reaching up to thread under his bending cap and through his sweaty hair hidden underneath it. 

He’d finished his first week. 

If Al didn’t give him a raise and a uniform that fit, Mike was going to do bodily harm to the man. 

* * *

Alan and Liam were outside waiting for Mike to lock up. Liam was quiet, as usual, black security hat pulled low, dark eyes watching the night watchman from under the brim. Mike hadn’t seen them since Wednesday and he sighed, eyeing the janitor who was chewing tobacco yet again. Mike wrinkled his nose, "That stuff'll make your teeth fall out." 

Alan spit, "Already did. 'M wearing dentures."

Mike grimaced and Alan leaned against his pickup, "Well? Should I hand in your notice to the boss?" 

Mike snorted, "You wish you could get rid of me." He shook his head and started towards his car, shoulders hunched as Alan laughed, "You got gumption, son!" 

Mike rolled his eyes, but stopped. He turned on his heel and tilted his head, "How long did the last guy last?"

Alan sobered quickly. He took his time before answering, spitting again, oblivious to the night guard's disgust, "He was the longest we ever had. Eleven months." 

"...Were you friends?" 

Alan grinned, but his eyes were empty, "Son, night guards don’t have friends here." The 'they tend to die quickly' part was left unsaid.

Mike knew a lie when he saw one. He wasn’t stupid, but he didn’t dig deeper, "Well, don’t get rid of the office phone then. The guy left some helpful messages for future hires." He sighed and added, "Don’t listen to Thursday's message. It fucking sucks." 

Alan shook his head fondly, "Scott wasn’t supposed to do that. It’s against company policy." 

So that was Phone Guy. S. Scott. Mike lifted his chin, "Fuck company policy." He shoved his hands in his pants pockets, "Don’t delete those messages. Make sure they stay on there if I ever... if I ever quit." 

Mike started toward his car again before throwing over his shoulder, "And tell Al to get me a better uniform, Scott was a fucking beanpole!" 

Liam snickered, the first noise he’d heard the man make since he’d met him.

Mike slammed his car door harder than he should’ve and sighed with relief. He'd finished his first week at Freddy Fazbear's Pizza. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And that’s the end of the first part of our story! Next week we'll move on to part 2 ^-^


	6. swift sharp needles do spot his face

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I did not realize how short this chapter was until now. Oh well. Maybe I’ll post another chapter tomorrow to make up for it. Maybe.

**Part 2: once more unto the breach**

Al folded his pudgy fingers together before deciding against it and transferring his cigar to his hand so he could talk, "Michael, you’ve been with us a year now at Freddy Fazbear's, our wonderful little safe haven for family friendly entertainment." 

Mike nodded, "Yessir." He resisted the urge to tack on some less than flattering expletives. In the year since he’d started at Freddy Fazbear's (absolutely _not_ a safe haven and most definitely not family friendly) Mike had gained quite a few bumps and bruises from some close calls, as well as a handful of scars. The animatronics had gotten pretty damn close a couple of times, especially when he had chosen to clock in some overtime when his situation had gotten desperate. 

Still, he had his apartment now, and the highest amount he'd ever had in savings, which wasn’t saying much. He’d even gotten his pay raised to six dollars about six months ago (an extraordinary undertaking) and he’d had his new resized uniform since the end of week two. 

He honestly didn’t know why he hadn’t quit. It wasn’t because he was the best person for the job, as he had more experience than anyone else on the planet with the murderous robots, or because he was that 'good of a guy.' Mike wasn’t nice or self-sacrificial, he had enough common sense to know _that_. So it didn’t make any sense for him to still be here now that he didn’t need to be. 

Wouldn’t it be nice, after all, to get a full night’s sleep for once? Instead of the five or six spare hours he had between jobs? 

However, despite all rationality, he had no intention of quitting. 

Al's words snapped him back, "-and your pay will be raised to twelve dollars an hour-“ 

Mike spluttered, "Wait- what?" 

Al blinked, "I know you’re thinking of quitting." He smiled in what he probably thought was a jolly way, "You’re one of our best and most valued employees. We can’t have you walking out on us." 

Mike blinked. Twelve bucks an hour.... he hadn’t really been thinking that hard about it, it had only been at the back of his mind. Still, someone had to keep Al on his toes. Mike stood and shook his boss's hand, painfully fake sharklike smile in place, "Thank you, sir. I’ll keep that in mind." 

That was obviously not the overwhelmingly positive response Al had expected but he nodded and stuck his cigar back in his mouth. 

Al added around his cigar as Mike left, "Get some sun, Schmidt! You look a little grey!" 

* * *

Foxy watched the elusive night watchman clock in for his next shift. Tonight was the night that Endo got its due, he was sure of it. He was going to catch the persistent landlubber and he was gonna personally deliver him to Freddy. The old fella's voice box still acted up occasionally, never having been repaired right after the accident with the last endoskeleton, the one that had previously held the record before this 'Mike' came along. 

Chica called him Mikey and seemed intent on telling them they would all be friends after the Endo got a suit. As if. Chica didn’t want to face the truth that no matter how stubborn Mike was now, he was probably just as soft and squishy and ill fitting as the rest of the Night Guards. 

The clock struck twelve and Foxy braced himself. 

Technically, this was against The Rules. None of them had ever broken The Rules before, not even the Night Guard. Hopefully Freddy and the others would understand. This had gone on too long and they needed to stop it. The Child in the back of his mind pulsed excitedly, just as viciously eager as he was to end it once and for all. 

* * *

At approximately 12:05 on Tuesday morning, at least according to Mike's watch and the pizzeria time, Mike was tense and waiting for Bonnie and Chica to start making their rounds. His hat was pulled low over his blue eyes, brown hair hidden under his blue cap, tie loosened just a tad and sleeves rolled up to prevent from snagging on anything when he was inevitably forced to lunge for the door buttons. Everything was as expected, even the cold that persisted despite the fan's absence. 

Until, Mike startled, dropping the tablet to grab at his ears as the voice of Golden Freddy screeched, the lightbulbs flickering and the air sharply dropping in temperature. 

Mike stood, coughing, trying to figure out what _the hell_ was happening. 

The animatronics never broke pattern not like this and _shit_ his head was going to split open just from _the_ _fucking noise-! _

He finally made out the thing's words, "**_GEeeEeT Ou-U-UT!_**” 

He turned towards the left door, and his eyes widened- Foxy was barreling straight at him- somehow completely silent, eyes black, pupils pinpricks, jaw opened wide- he didn’t even have the second needed to hit the button- Mike ducked and everything went black as the fox slammed into him. 


	7. little children went astray

**Part 2: once more unto the breach**

Mike opened his eyes. He frowned and then closed them again.

There didn’t seem to be any difference between the two. 

Was he dead? Had he been stuffed? 

Mike sat up, or he thought he sat up. He couldn’t even see his own hand in front of his face. He cleared his throat, "Hello?" 

He jumped when at his words, the world gained form and feature. He was still in his office, in the pizzeria. Except... not. The world was shadowed in a greyscale and strangely muddled at the edges. 

Mike looked around, but Foxy was nowhere to be seen. He stood and peered out the door the animatronic had come running through just moments ago, "Hello?" 

"**_Michael._**" 

Mike jumped, heart pounding and turned, a hand pressed to his chest. He frowned, "What the fuck?" 

A formless featureless figure stared up at him, wisps of dark shadow peeling off to melt into the pale world around them. Wide glowing white eyes stared up at him, tears spilling silently down what appeared to be its cheeks. Mike had recognized that voice. Except now it was clear and crisp and lacking its usual shitty quality... but it couldn’t possibly be... he glanced toward the back of the wall where the Golden Freddy suit usually appeared. 

The thing spoke again, it’s voice firm and filling the room even though the dark figure didn’t speak through any mouth he could see, "**_Yes, Michael. It’s Me._**" 

Mike took a step back, "B- but you’re just- you’re not real-!” 

The figure didn’t move a muscle, only staring upwards, "**_I am quite real. But that's not important right now. Right now, We need your help, Michael._**" 

"...We?" 

"**_Yes. I and the rest of the animatronics._**" 

Mike decided fuck it. This might as well be happening, but like hell was he going to be helping out these things, "Are you serious? I’m not helping you or any of the Fazfucks." He winced at his own words, his head aching at the noise. 

The figure finally moved. 

It fucking _giggled_, small hands clutching its stomach as it doubled over in peals of laughter. When it finished, it spoke softly, this time in a child's smooth soprano, "_I like you. You’re funny, Mike._" 

Mike gaped, "What the fuck? I don’t-“ 

"**_Michael. I am not the Child._**" 

The thing, the- the Child's face split, grinning widely- too wide, a slash of white in the expanse of dark, "_My name is Ben._" 

His confusion must’ve shown on his face. Ben pressed a hand to his chest and a golden ball of light filtered through its- his fingers, a shining string connecting it to him. The ball pulsed, "**_Thank you, Benjamin._**" 

He smiled, or as well as one could without a proper mouth, at the praise, round eyes turning into thin slits of delight. 

Mike wanted to bolt out the door, but where would he go? This even more nightmarish version of the pizzeria, if that was possible, seemed to end just outside the office doors. Besides, the hammering in his head made him want to remain as still as possible. 

"_Mike, are you alright?_" 

Mike snickered hysterically, "Just golden." 

"**_Michael, stay with me._**" 

Mike squinted at him, his skull felt like it was splitting open, "Why am I here?" 

The golden light flickered, "**_It’s a long story, Michael, and not mine to tell. This is about the animatronics. I can help you make peace with them. To hold your own._**" 

Was it just him or was the whole room flickering in and out, "And this- this is an equal exchange thing right?" 

"**_I can’t help you unless you let us in._**" 

Ben smiled sadly at him, pupil-less eyes bright, "_Just take my hand, Night Guard. Goldie will take care of the rest._" 

"How do I know I can trust... you... whatever the fuck you are?" 

"**_You are our last chance, our last resort. We need you just as much as you need us._**" 

"What does _that_ mean?" 

"**_You’re an asshole, Michael._**" Ben snickered as he continued, "**_But Benjamin believes that you will save us. I’m willing to take that chance._**"

"Wait I- I think we need to go over a few things before we do... whatever the fuck it is that you want me to do-“ 

The lights blinked out. Ben's white eyes were the only thing that could penetrate the thick darkness, that and the golden light filling his palm, "_Take my hand, Mike!_" 

"**_We're out of time, Night Guard._**" 

"_Take my hand!_" 

Mike took it, palm closing around the ball of golden light and Ben's shadowy fingers.

The last light went out.


	8. counting ten, nine, zero fingers

**Part 2: once more unto the breach**

Mike came to, again, his head spinning. The lights fizzed overhead as they passed by, and he frowned. Something was dragging him across the floor by the collar of his shirt. 

Foxy. 

He’d been caught. 

The animatronic didn’t seem to notice that he was awake. Not that things were any better because of that. He was still going to get stuffed inside a suit and then Alan and Liam would clean up his mutilated corpse like the rest of the night guards. _Fuck. _

_"I won’t let that happen, Mike."_

He barely suppressed his surprise. The voice- the strange hallucination he’d had with Golden Freddy and Benjamin or whatever- 

"_You can call me, Ben, Mike. And yes, it was real._" 

His eyes flicked up at Foxy, who seemed to be taking him towards the stage where the rest of the hellish robots waited. What the fuck was he going to do? 

"_Don’t worry, Mike. I’ve got this. Just try to relax._" 

Relax? _Relax?_

Foxy dropped him and Mike played dead. Just like Scott had suggested. Not that that was going to do him any good right now. The three on the stage moved, stepping down and holy shit, the thing spoke, "Freddy I go' the crafty landlubber ri' here." 

Holy _fucking_ shit, Foxy had a shitty pirate accent _what the fuck- _

Freddy rumbled, "How on earth did you manage to catch him?" 

The animatronic shifted uncomfortably, "Er, I had t' break some 'o The Rules, Freddy." 

Chica squawked, "Foxy, we can't break The Rules! If- if we don’t follow them, then- then _he_ might not follow them either."

"Lass-“ 

Mike found himself moving. Which was the last fucking thing he wanted to be doing right now. Against his will, he pushed himself to his feet, stumbling as he straightened. _What the fuck- _

The animatronics turned on him, bracing themselves for him to run.

Instead he grinned, and was it his imagination or was it suddenly very cold, and he- or rather his body which seemed to have gained a mind of its own, spoke, "_THaNk-k-k you, FoXY. Y- y- y ou lEt me iN._" 

The animatronics gaped. And Mike realized who was speaking through him. Ben. 

Bonnie whispered with horror, "The purple guard!” 

Ben and something else- it had to be Golden Freddy- snarled and heat licked at his insides, "**_NOT HIM!_**" He shifted and Mike tried to yank back control from the Child, for a brief moment he seemed to have wrested it back but then Ben had him again, speaking in his head only for him to hear, "_Not now, Mike!_" 

Like hell was he letting this continue, and he _pushed_ back, letting his fury fuel him. 

Mike stumbled over his own feet, back in control and surrounded by four surprised robots, "Alright, what _the fuck_ is going on here?!"

Freddy spoke first, confused and strangely relieved, "Night Guard?" 

Mike was too angry to be scared and too confused to give a single fuck about his most likely impending doom, "Yeah, no shit!" Chica and Bonnie flinched each time he cursed, "What the hell was that? How are you fucking talking? Why I am worryingly unfazed about all of this shit?!" 

"Calm down lad-“ 

Mike whirled, "**_DoN't tELL mE to cALM DOWN!_**” 

Ben's voice echoed in his head, "_Mike, stop!_"

Bonnie and Chica backed away, Foxy snarled, eyes burning black, "I’ve had it with ye Night Guard, yer on my last nerve-!” 

Freddy seemed to be keeping a level head, "Foxy-“ 

The animatronic didn’t listen, fear and anger taking hold. He lunged, hook gleaming in the flickering lights. Mike threw his hands up to protect his face, wincing against the bite of the metal that was soon to come. 

It never came. 

"Foxy, stop this at once!"

Mike opened his eyes, mouth falling open. He’d caught it, the hook just inches from his face. His hand was leaking wisps of black, the same ghostly substance wafting from the Child, from Benjamin. The dim outline of a golden paw flickered around it. 

Ben murmured somewhere from the back of his mind, "_Please don’t make us fight them, Mike._" 

He let go of the fox's arm, holding his hands up in surrender. 

He’d left finger shaped dents in the suit. 

Mike took a deep breath, trying to bottle up the strange rage that had taken over, "One of you freaks had better fucking explain what the hell is going on." 

* * *

Bonnie, Chica, and Foxy watched Freddy and Mike across the room. The air crackled with tension. Mike sat on a chair, arms crossed, watching Freddy from across one of the wooden tables. Chica whispered to Bonnie without ever taking her sights off of the pair, "Do you think he knows his optics have changed?" 

Bonnie eyed him critically before shaking his head, "No. I don’t think he does." 

Mike's usual blue eyes had blackened, his pupils white pinpricks, teeth barred in a snarl. The animatronics could see the ghostly influence drifting from him, an unfamiliar wispy spirit clung to his back, a translucent golden line connecting it to the Night Guard. He was the spitting image of the animatronics when the Child's rage overtook them. 

Foxy, however, knew the real reason Freddy had decided to negotiate with the Night Guard. Goldie had gotten to him. Goldie had never managed to get to a Night Guard before. Never. They’d always managed to stop him. 

Even more, the Night Guard had overridden Goldie's control, something they hadn’t even known could happen. 

The truly intriguing thing about it all, however, was Goldie's outburst. It had been instinctive and outraged and truthful. He wasn’t, or at least he believed, that the fifth soul he carried wasn’t the Guard in Purple.

The weeping ghost clinging to Michael Schmidt blinked at them and then looked away just as quickly. 

Only time would tell now. 


	9. in the sunny soil beneath

**Part 2: once more unto the breach**

Mike was poised for flight on the edge of his chair, uneasy with how close Freddy was. They had a table between them, but it wouldn’t take much for the huge animatronic to overpower him. 

Ben whispered for him alone to hear, "_We won’t let that happen._" 

His leg bounced impatiently. 

Freddy was eyeing him critically, and Mike stilled. He couldn’t help but feel like a guilty child underneath his disappointed parent's harsh gaze, waiting for him to confess to a crime. Which was ridiculous. Mike hadn’t done anything wrong here. If anything these chucklefucks were the ones who should be in the doghouse, not _him_. 

Freddy's deep voice rumbled, "I need to speak to Goldi- Golden." 

Mike's brows furrowed, "...okay?" 

Freddy's eyebrow raised, and wasn’t that funny, Mike hadn’t noticed it before but Bonnie was the only one built _without_ eyebrows. Was he just not important enough to have a bigger range of expression? That seemed kind of shitty. 

"What do you want me to do about it?" 

Freddy seemed to be getting annoyed with his slowness. Mike was just as frustrated. This whole time he felt like he was three steps behind everyone else and no one would tell him jackshit.

Freddy's eyes narrowed, "You mean you don’t know?"

Ben gave his input, "_Mike, just relax. I know that’s hard right now, but you’re keeping Goldie from surfacing. You’ve got to surrender control._" 

Mike uncrossed his arms, and breathed, closing his eyes, "Fine. Fuck it." 

A moment later he opened them, or well, _he_ didn’t, words garbled and unnatural unlike the time they’d been crisp and clear earlier in his dream, his vision tainted gold, "**_FrEdDY i-i-iT's nIce tO sEe yoU aGain._**" 

The animatronics in the corner looked up. Mike would’ve flinched if he could’ve. There were crying children, just like Ben, clinging to the animatronics. One peeked around Chica's back surreptitiously, the outline of pigtails swinging. How many were there? He counted, four, one for each animatronic. Unlike Ben, they didn’t seem all that... aware. He didn’t know how to explain it. They pulsed with pure instinctive emotion but no clearly defined words seemed to come from them. 

What made them so different from each other? 

Freddy shifted uneasily, snapping Mike's attention back to what was taking place, "Goldie. You’re really here." 

"**_I've aLwAys bEeN hERe._**"

The bear animatronic seemed uncomfortable, "We knew that. We could feel you, dimly. What happened to you?" 

"**_I-I-I-I neeeEEEedEd a-a endOskEletoN. Y-y ou knOw thAt._**"

"Don’t you have... have _him?_" 

Goldie chuckled, laughter sardonic and fizzing, the shimmering outline of Golden Freddy glowing brightly, "**_I-f I wAs hIM-M-M wE woUldN't be tAlKing-g-g._**" A disappointed sigh as he added, "**_BeSidEs yOu doN't eVEn knOw iF hE'S dEad._**"

Freddy conceded that with a nod, "Then who is with you?" 

"**_THe ChiLdrEn k-k-knoW whO._**" 

Freddy frowned, "What do you mean? They’re terrified of you. We thought-“ 

"**_FRe-e-edy, I- I haaaaaVe Ben-Ben-BenjAmiiiiin._**"

The animatronic stilled, "He's here?" 

The other animatronics had frozen. Foxy's ears had gone flat against his head, eyes darkening. 

Ben whispered in Mike's head, "_Uh-oh._" 

"Why, what? What’s wrong?" 

Golden Freddy grinned, his next words dry, "_**IT'S ME.**_" His head swiveled to stare at the fox, becoming serious again, "**_Fox-x-xy hE foRg-g-gives yoU._**" 

Foxy looked ready to bolt. Chica murmured something comforting to the thing and Bonnie patted his shoulder. Goldie returned his attention to the animatronic in front of him, "**_Ma-a-Ke nO mi-mistAke, thE guArD In pUrpLe is-s-s sTi-ill hEre, aLiVe o r deAd, soMewHere or-r-r The ChiLdrEn woUld haVe fOuNd pea-ea-eace._**" 

Golden Freddy leaned forward, laying a paw on the table, "**_We-e-e cAn heLp. Michae-e-el wiLL eNd tHis. A NigHt GuaRd did tHis t-t-tO us, A NiGht GuArd wILL fiX iT._**"

Freddy considered the ghostly animatronic carefully, "Let me talk to the others."

Goldie nodded, his light dim, "**_I-I wilL reSt. MiChael is sTrong b-buT uNusEd to ME._**" 

Goldie slumped, flickering away, back into the recesses of Mike's mind. The Night Guard's eyes melted back into blue. 

Mike straightened, trying to ignore the disconcerting feeling of not being used to his own body, and stared up at Freddy cautiously. 

The animatronic's expression was carefully bland, "It’s almost six am Night Guard. I suggest you head home." 

Mike swallowed and nodded. 

* * *

Mike sat on his tattered garage sale sofa, staring blankly at the wall. Every light in the house was on, but he still didn’t feel safe. The itch at the back of his mind persisted, some fantastical conglomeration of Child and animatronic pressing insistently in the back of his mind. 

"**_MiChaEl..._**" 

Fuck no, he wasn’t doing this. 

Was he imagining it or were the lights flickering gold? _Fuckfuckfuck_\- his skin crawled, taut like the metaphorical rubber band stretched tight inside his ribs, ready to snap from the slightest pressure. 

Mike didn’t realize he’d been scratching his wrist until his nails broke skin. He hissed, feeling sick at the red now staining his nails. It wasn’t gold like he’d expected it to be. No, no he didn’t know why he’d thought that, that was stupid-

"**_MicHaeL..._**"

"Fine!" He pressed his fingers over his wrist, the pain grounding him, "What _the fuck_ do you want from me, huh?"

The voice in his head sighed, gruff and worn, "**WhAt dO yoU wIsH to knOw?**" 

Mike scowled, "Who’s the purple guard? Why’d you- you flip your shit when they mentioned him?" 

The growl that filled his ears trailed down his spine like cold fingertips, "**_He iS tHe ReAsOn foR eVerYtHiNg._**" 

Mike blinked, "The- the weird spirits? The killer robots?"

"**_YeS._**" 

Mike's frown deepened, "Purple..." he straightened, realization dawning, "He was a _night_ guard! Al said the uniforms used to be purple! _He was a night guard!_"

Golden Freddy was silent, but he could feel affirmation pulsing in the back of his head, "You fuckers are killing night guards out of revenge for what some psycho did? That’s- that’s..." He finally settled on, "...Some dumbass shit! Stupid as fuck!" 

Ben piped up, "_The Children are! Not Foxy! Not the others! They hold a grudge, but they still just think you’re an Endo!_"

Mike stood abruptly, beginning to pace, "Okay, I'll give that to you, a night guard does something nasty as fuck, who knows what, and the possessed animatronics turn into _killer_ animatronics. That still doesn’t explain the freaky ass spirits!" 

Goldie remained silent now, which meant it must’ve been right in front of his face. Ben whispered quietly, "_They’re ghosts._" 

Mike paused, feeling something sink inside as he connected the dots, "...Ghosts. Right. Of course they are. They’re dead people. Dead _children_. So this purple guard was sick as _fuck_. So I guess, it’s an understandable reaction to not like night guards, but still extreme as shit." Mike stopped, "So they thought Golden Freddy was him, which doesn’t really make sense, but what-_fucking_-ever, none of this does." He turned, continuing his circuit, looking to all the world as if he was talking to himself, "But why do you need me? Why are you- what, _possessing_ me? Is that the correct term? And, how does an animatronic turn into a- a ghost?" 

"_**MiChaEl, tHe cHiLdRen caNnOt rEst, nOt uNtiL tHey fiNd pEaCe. NoT uNTiL tHe gUaRd iN pUrpLe iS gOnE.**_" 

Mike laughed, teetering on the edge of hysteria, "What? Gone? You want me to kill him?"

"**_No. We dOn'T knOw wHat hApPenD tO hIm. OuR mEmOriEs aRe fUzZy fRoM tHat tiMe, wE cAn'T rEcAll wHaT bEcaMe oF hiM. He vAnIsHed aFtEr iT aLL._**" 

"Well I can do some research, I guess. Do you remember what his name was?" 

"**_No._**" 

Mike grimaced, "What he looked like?" 

"**_PuRple._**" 

"Oh great thanks, that’s _so_ helpful." 

Mike sighed, rubbing his forehead, exhaustion pulling insistently at him. He paused, remembering the cut on his wrist. He should probably wash it off and put a bandaid on it. Mike pushed open the bathroom door, turning on the faucet and grimacing at the shock of cold water. The apartment never had hot water, but that was part of the reason the place had been so cheap. 

He frowned at himself in the mirror, dark bags under his eyes, graying skin, and lines he could’ve sworn hadn’t been there last year, "What do I do in the meantime?" 

"**_WhAteVeR yoU tHiNk iS bEsT. ThOuGh dEaLinG wiTh tHe aNimaTroNiCs is A pRioRiTy. YoU neEd tO be aBle to cOopErAte wiTH eAch oThEr._**" 

Mike sighed, washing away the flakes of dried blood, "Fine, whatever. I’ll see about it." 

He lifted up his hand to inspect the cut. 

His skin was pale and smooth, almost as if nothing had ever been there at all. 

Mike's eyes widened and he stared down at the undeniably red stained water spilling down the drain. 

Golden Freddy and Ben were silent in the back of his mind. 


	10. hear them laughing underneath

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Posting this chapter early because it’s Halloween!! 
> 
> I’ll have another one up tomorrow too! ^^

**Part 2: once more unto the breach**

Mike perched on the edge of the table, legs crossed, chewing loudly on a sandwich. He checked the watch on his wrist and then took another bite calmly, hearing the familiar toll signaling the arrival of midnight. 

Bonnie swiveled his head and then froze when he spotted him. Chica peered around him and Freddy frowned. 

Mike swallowed his sandwich, "What’s up, Fazfucks?" 

Freddy looked both resigned and appalled. Chica grimaced at his crudeness. Bonnie actually laughed. Freddy turned his disapproving glare on the rabbit before asking, "And why, Michael, are you not in the office?" 

Mike nodded, ignoring the mildly threatening tone in the bear's voice, "I’m glad you asked. You see, previously, my job was trying not to die every night and make sure that these crazy murderous animatronics didn’t escape a kiddie pizzeria and massacre a whole city block, or, eviscerate a couple innocent harmless robbers who were just tying to steal a couple hundred bucks." He grinned, "That would be you." 

He held a hand up to stop any exclamations or protests, "But, seeing how some sort of truce was reached last night, I figured we could skip the whole cat and mouse power trip." Mike popped the last bite of sandwich into his mouth and grinned through it at the animatronics. 

Freddy seemed very much tired of him already, which really made Mike kind of proud. The bear deserved every bit of grief as far as he was concerned.

Chica huffed, feathers ruffled, "We wouldn’t destroy a whole city block, that’s ridiculous. We don’t hurt _people_." 

Mike choked on his food, swallowing it down with some difficulty, "You’re- you’re fucking kidding me right?"

At their questioning glances, Mike sighed at their blank stares, he rolled his eyes and hopped off the table. Golden Freddy really hadn’t been kidding about their obliviousness, "Newsflash, assholes! I’m not an endoskeleton! I’ve haven’t been one the entire damn time!" 

Bonnie protested, "That’s ridiculous-!” 

Mike cut him off, the day he’d had since the incident with Golden Freddy had emboldened him considerably, "Oh c'mon! Look at me!" He gestured at himself, "I’m soft, I’m breakable, I'm- I'm not the right size. No one is the right size! I mean how many night guards have you stuffed inside suits? How many of them haven’t fit? Every single one, I’ll bet. So why would you be sent useless ill fitting endoskeletons, huh?" 

Bonnie blinked. Chica seemed stunned in place, but Freddy shook his head, "Humans aren’t allowed at Fazbear's after dark-“ 

Mike scoffed, "One is! The night guard!" He pointed at his hat, "Says it right here. I _guard_ the place at _night_. I cannot stress this enough, it’s a _job_. Not that all-caps business you all seem to have going on. It’s not a species or a person or a disobedient endoskeleton, it’s _just_ a job title."

Chica's eyes had widened, beak hanging open, looking for all the world as if someone had hit her as Mike continued, "Your vendetta against night guards makes as much sense as someone vowing to kill all- all _janitors_ or some shit."

Bonnie sputtered, "But- but we didn’t-“ 

Mike steamrolled over him, too caught up in the argument he’d had over and over in his head since last night, "I get it, something really fucking bad happened with a night guard, but what did Scott ever do to you, huh? I mean he was a moron for it but he seemed to really love you guys, God knows why. And you stuffed him in a suit!" 

The rage niggled at the back of his mind, "What happened when you did, huh?" He gestured furiously at Freddy's dented mask, "Were those handprints made by him? Struggling for his life? What was it like when you stuffed him? Did- did he break? Did his bones snap when you forced him into a place he wasn’t made to go? Did he bleed all over your fronts? Did someone have to hose you down afterwards? Did they clean the chunks of him out of that fucking suit or did they just throw the whole damn thing out?" 

At their lack of reply, Mike shouted, "Answer me, you assholes!" Mike sniffed, eyes narrowed, trying to ignore the wetness gathering there, "He- he said he was going to try and play dead. How did that work out for him? Did- did he suffer?" The animatronics wouldn’t meet his eyes, Mike growing angry again, "Did you even care? Did he plead for his life? Did you even _listen_ to him-?!” 

Freddy thundered, "_That’s enough!_" 

Mike flinched away, banging into the table. 

They stared each other down before Mike snapped, "Yeah, I sure fucking _hope_ it is." 

He stuffed his hands into his pockets and stormed away. 

Chica turned to Freddy, feathers clasped together worriedly, "Were- _were_ they humans?" Bonnie asked plaintively, "Was he right? Did we kill humans?" 

Freddy sighed, "I..." the Child in his mind don’t answer, hiding away from him, guilt leaking from it like it’s ghostly shadows. That was damning enough. 

Freddy ran a paw over his face, "...I’m afraid that I believe him."


	11. Chica

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We're in a new part! Part 3! :)
> 
> I hope ya'll had a very happy Halloween yesterday!

**Part 3: game, set, match **

"Mike?" 

Mike yelped, falling out of his chair with a crash. 

"Oh, oh I’m so sorry I didn’t mean to scare you!" The large yellow animatronic loomed over him, "Are you alright?" 

"Yeah, yeah I’m fine." He pushed himself to a sitting position, wary of how close Chica was. She noticed his unease and backed up to the doorway again, feathers flapping apologetically, "I’m sorry." 

Mike stood, "What are you doing here?" 

"Oh! Well I thought maybe you could use some company." 

He raised an eyebrow, "Really." 

Chica flapped her wings, "Well, and I wanted to tell you that- that you were right and I’m sorry that we- that we scared you so much. Bonnie feels the same but he’s well, he can be very stubborn sometimes."

Mike's brows had drawn down during her speech and he interrupted her curiously, "Are you- are you like an AI?" 

"What’s that?"

He waved his hand at her, "I mean you’ve- you’ve all got personalities. But you’re robots. And whatever the hell is going on with those- those-“ 

"The Children? Oh, we were like this before them. We're very advanced." She grinned, and honestly Mike hoped she’d never do that again, crooked teeth and beak warped disturbingly, "That’s why we're so good with kids!" 

Mike's lips thinned, "And... and these children... what- what _exactly_ happened to them?" 

"Oh, we- we don’t like to talk about it." 

Well, Mike certainly wasn’t going to broach that subject. He cautiously asked, "And what do the other two think?" 

"About what?" 

"About you know, not trying to kill me every night." 

Chica laughed, "Oh, right! Well you know Freddy, or I guess you don’t. Freddy is well, he’s... he's decided to believe Goldie, but that doesn’t mean he’s going to like it. And Foxy? Well, Foxy probably won’t go near you now, not now that he knows about Ben." 

Mike perked up, "And why is that?" 

"Well... it’s a long story." She sighed, "I suppose I could tell it. But... but it would require cake." 

"Cake." Mike said flatly, wondering where on earth this was going. 

Apparently it was going to the kitchens because Chica brightened, "Cake! I made some! In the kitchen! C'mon!" 

She vanished down the dark hallway, hardly making a noise. Mike gulped, mentally weighing the risks. Well... he’d already come this far. Mike stood, stopping at the dark doorway. 

Eh, fuck it. 

(When had that become his mantra?) 

Shaking his head, he stepped out into the darkness.

The kitchens were roomier than he imagined, and cleaner too. Chica proudly presented a large slice of chocolate cake, fork, and plate to the night guard. Mike realized what it was then. 

A peace offering. 

Mike's mouth twisted but he tentatively took it, settling himself on a metal stool, "...Well?" 

Chica seemed pleased that he’d taken it, "...Well. I think some people refer to it as the Bite of ‘87, which I think is melodramatic." 

Mike blinked, fork pausing just before he could take a bite of Chica's cake, "The- the person without... without the frontal lobe? I- I thought they were alive." 

Chica looked confused for a moment, "We... we don’t know what happened after it all, really. To Benjamin. We, they shut us down for a while afterwards." 

The familiar tickle signaling Ben's alertness in the back of Mike's mind whispered sadly, softly, "_I don’t think I lived for long. A couple months at most. Maybe a year. It’s hard to- to remember. I just remember that I- that I woke up here. With Goldie._" 

He took a bite and swallowed carefully, "So Ben was the bite victim." 

Chica suppressed an involuntary flinch, "...Yes." 

He didn’t press, though, to be fair he was distracted- it was very good cake. Mike was almost surprised. 

Chica continued, absently cleaning the counters as she rambled, "It was an accident. Most definitely. Ben was... he... his brother- they..." she finally settled on, "It was his seventh birthday." If Chica had been a person, Mike would’ve said she was getting teary over it. 

"Ben really loved Foxy, you know. He was Foxy's 'first mate'." She giggled, "You know, Foxy can’t help all that pirate stuff. It’s how he was made. The childr- the kids love it. Ben, especially." She put her collection of crumbs in the trash can, "His brother, well, he were older and he and his friends- they- they didn't like us... they used too, but I think they’d come upon that phase where we were seen as silly and childish and they were shamefaced about liking us when they were his age. They were mean spirited about it- I know they made fun of him for wanting to go here." 

Chica stared off into nothingness, eyes a thousand miles away, seeing events that had happened years ago, "They weren’t evil, just- just cruel. In the way that kids can be sometimes." 

Mike didn’t like that expression on her. She felt... well, she felt like a _she_ instead of an it. Chica felt human. 

"They were just joking around, I think. Not that it was funny to anyone but them. And Foxy... he’d been needing repairs and well, he’d been taken off free roaming mode, movement, and the like so that that could happen... I remember because Ben was so devastated Foxy couldn’t make it to his birthday. They- they snuck into Pirate's Cove and put his head in Foxy's mouth, and- and laughed at him when he cried. Something happened, they hit him wrong, tripped a switch, _something_ and well... Foxy bit down." 

Chica flapped her feathers, "Foxy couldn’t help it! He couldn’t even move and they couldn’t- it- there was just so much blood-“ 

Mike grimaced, "_Fuck_..." 

Chica sighed, "And then they put him away, like it had been his fault. It was the only way that Al could keep Fazbear's up and running."

Mike didn’t want to feel sorry for her, but he was beginning too. Involuntarily, he snapped harshly, "Yeah, that and you guys murdering night guards every week. That kind of trashed this place's reputation. It’s a wonder the place hasn’t fucking tanked already." 

Ben murmured disapprovingly, almost sounding like Golden Freddy, "_Michael..._"

That had been a little harsh. 

Mike sighed, "Alright that was mean. I’m sorry." 

Chica cocked her head, "You’re perfectly fine, we... we did a lot of bad things. Ignorance is no excuse."

Mike spluttered, "Wh- wha? I said I was sorry, alright? You don’t have to fucking guilt trip me." 

Chica giggled, disturbingly childlike, "I’m sorry, I wasn’t trying too." 

Mike picked at the last bits of his cake, grumbling with annoyance. Chica's optics softened almost imperceptibly, a strange sort of fondness creeping in, "Thank you, Mike."

He looked up, confusion painted clearly across his features, "For _what?_" 

Her smile was fragile and only there for a second, "For telling us the truth." 


	12. Bonnie

**Part 3: game, set, match**

Alan chewed thoughtfully as Mike examined the animatronics lined up on the stage. Liam clattered in the back, getting ready for his shift as the daytime security. Mike hummed, "Hey, Alan. These... these guys are getting pretty ripe." He nodded at the pizza sauce stains, dried cheese, and general dirt coating the robots, "Do they ever get cleaned, or...?"

Alan blinked, "Wha? Hell no, son. No one goes near the things after closing time." 

"Hm." 

Alan squinted, "...Why?"

Mike didn’t respond, too absorbed in his thoughts. Alan asked again, this time louder, "Why, Mike?" 

"What?"

"Why are you asking?"

Mike shrugged, his behavior positively _strange_, "Oh, I was just wondering."

Alan squinted, but no, he _seemed_ healthy. 

Mike changed the subject abruptly, "How long have you and Liam been working here?" 

Alan wasn’t stupid. He knew a distraction when he saw one. Still, he allowed it, deeming Mike's oddness of no importance at the moment, "Well, me? Only a few years, three I think now. Now Liam, he was the only one they kept on when they refurbished the restaurant after the murders. Oh, yes, Liam's been around for a good long time."

Mike crossed his arms, glancing back at where Liam had gone, "Really? Is that why he’s so quiet?" 

Alan chuckled, "If you’re implying that he’s seen some serious shit, then yes. He has. I think... think he’s been around since before 1987 _at least._ I don’t know for sure, he ain’t the talkative type. He’s useful though, real handy in a pinch. _Wicked_ sense of humor, to be sure."

Mike raised an eyebrow. 

Alan waved a hand, "Oh, you won’t like it." 

Mike's eyes narrowed and Alan huffed, "Where do night guards go after they die?" He paused and added with a small grin, "_Everywhere_." 

Mike's nose wrinkled at the tastelessness of it and Alan sighed, "I knew you wouldn’t like it, son. It’s his way of coping I suppose."

Mike shook his head, eyeing the animatronics again, "To be honest, it doesn’t really bother me. What bothers me is how fucking disgusting these guys are."

Alan laughed at that.

* * *

Mike honestly didn’t know why he hadn’t told Alan and Liam the animatronics had calmed down. Maybe it was because he couldn’t really believe it himself and he was waiting for the other shoe to drop. Or maybe it was because they’d think he was crazy. Ghosts? Possession? Fuck no. He wasn’t going to tell anybody if he could help it. 

Mike dropped the cleaning supplies with an awful clatter onto the floor of the pizzeria. Bonnie and Freddy, the only two animatronics in the room, glanced up. Mike placed the bucket in his left hand down with more care, water almost spilling over the sides. He straightened, "Alright, listen up assholes! I’ve got soap and I’m not afraid to use it." 

Freddy frowned, "What on earth are you doing, Michael?"

Mike grinned, completely feral, "I’m giving you gross fucks a bath, whether you like it or not." 

Freddy actually brightened, "Why, that’s... that’s actually a good idea, Michael." 

Bonnie gaped, "No! What? Freddy, why are you taking his side?" 

Freddy sniffed indignantly, "I’m not. He just has a point and I’m mature enough to admit that he can make one even if I dislike him."

Bonnie huffed and Freddy nodded, "You get to go first." (Was that a hint of mischievousness there? But no, it _couldn’t_ be.) 

Bonnie sighed and grumbled as Mike brandished the sponge over the purple rabbit as if it were a sword. The bunny grudgingly allowed the night guard to begin scrubbing his suit. 

Bonnie wasn’t pouting (he most definitely was) as Mike mumbled, probably cursing under his breath as he washed a particularly stubborn stain in the violet fur. A moment later Mike looked up and frowned, probably realizing just how tall he was, "I’m gonna need you to sit down, or else you’re never gonna get your filthy ass clean."

Bonnie snickered, "Shorty." 

Mike snapped, "Asshole." 

"Butthead!" 

Mike lobbed back, "Shithead."

Bonnie shouted, overjoyed, "Fat lard!"

Mike threw out with barely a pause, "Fuckass!"

Bonnie seemed to be enjoying the battle of 'wits', cackling, "Buttslug!" 

"Bitchface!" 

"Butthole!"

"Dicknugget!" 

Bonnie giggled, almost childlike, plopping down on the ground, "Alright, you win, you win." He snickered. Mike grumbled, starting to clean the bunny's long floppy ears, "What, like it was hard? You’ve got the insults of a preschooler."

Bonnie shrugged, "I work with what I’ve got. Can't curse."

Mike paused, gaping, "What? You mean- you can’t?"

Bonnie almost shook his head, but then thought better of flinging soap everywhere, "Nope." 

Mike leaned around his shoulder, trying to meet his eyes, "Can’t say shit?" 

Bonnie shook his head slowly. Mike seemed truly appalled now, "Not even crap?"

"Nuh-uh."

Mike blinked, "Really? That's... shitty."

Bonnie eyed a drop of water sliding down his nose with annoyance, "Well it makes sense. We're built for kindergarteners. But that just means I’ve gotten pretty creative with my insults." 

Mike dipped his filthy sponge in the bubbly water, grimacing as it turned brown. Bonnie laughed, "I think sewer sucking slime ball is one of my best works. That and butt munch."

Mike choked on a laugh. 

Bonnie smiled conspiratorially, "You should see the parent's faces when I unleash my minions. And they can’t ever figure it out where they got them from! Who would teach a kid to say turd burglar?" 

Mike actually laughed this time, it was more of a sharp bark, hoarse and unfamiliar, but the strangeness of it all was overshadowed by a real smile, "You’re a devious little shit brick, huh?" 

Bonnie grinned, "Oh, I’m devious alright." With those words he shook his head, flinging soapy water all over the room. Mike flailed and cursed, "Aw shit, fuck!" He fell down, wiping at his eyes, "You- you douche canoe! What the fuck!"

If Bonnie were human, he would’ve been doubled over laughing and crying, as it was he was just doing the same without the tears. Mike threw the sponge, which bounced limply off the rabbits back, "Chucklefuck! Dickwad! Assbreath!" Bonnie only laughed harder. 

Mike tried to pretend he wasn’t finding some amusement in the situation, unsuccessfully, and spat, "Tw- twatwaffle!"

Bonnie sounded like he was dying, flopping backwards from the force of his hysterics. 

Mike ended up dumping the bucket of water on the rabbit's head. 

The room was a mess, but undeniably worth it. 

* * *

Alan paused in the corner of the room, broom held in his hand as he eyed Chica and Bonnie, trying to ignore the kids in a birthday party screaming enthusiastically for more music. Freddy seemed the same as usual, dirty and stained, but that only made Chica and Bonnie stand out even more. Chica's feathers were a sunny yellow instead of a drab stained what-had-probably-once-been-called-yellow-but-was-now-undoubtedly-not. Her wings were ruffled pleasantly and her beak shined under the lights. Bonnie seemed damp in some places, but other than that he was a bright cheerful lavender, almost looking new in the light. 

"Hey, Liam, do they look _cleaner_ to you?" 

Liam, who’d been passing by with a sneakily obtained plate of pizza, frowned at the animatronics. His eyes narrowed with suspicion, "They _do_ look cleaner." 

He took a bite before shrugging his shoulders and settling on, "It probably doesn’t matter, Alan. Let it go." He stomped off towards the security office. 

Alan squinted, but shook his head and went back to work. 

Liam was probably right. 


	13. Freddy

**Part 3: game, set, match**

Mike ripped down the stained ancient Freddy Fazbear posters from the security office’s wall, nose wrinkled with distaste. Bits of the posters were stuck to the wall where the tape had been. He sighed, eyeing the equally distasteful patchy wall. As awful as they were, the posters had actually been an improvement. He shivered in the cold of the office.

"Michael." 

Mike jumped, a yelp escaping him. He whirled, a hand pressed to his chest as Freddy Fazbear loomed in the doorway, one very unimpressed eyebrow raised in response to his reaction. Mike snapped defensively, "What the fuck do you want, Fazbear?" 

Was it just him or did the bear look uncomfortable? Freddy sighed, which was a remarkable feat considering he didn’t breathe, and removed his hat from his head to hold in front of his chest. 

Mike swallowed, Freddy looked like he was just about to tell him of some death in the family. The bear spoke, "Er, Michael. I was wondering... if perhaps..." 

Was Freddy actually struggling to say something to him? 

Mike scoffed, crossing his arms, enjoying the bear being offbeat for once, "Something you want, Fazbear?" 

If Freddy had been human, he would’ve reddened with annoyance and embarrassment. As it was, his eyes hardened, sensing that the security guard was messing with him, "I- ah, um." At Mike's smug smile, Fazbear ground out, "Nothing, never mind, Night Guard. Sorry to trouble you." 

Mike rolled his eyes as the bear started retreating down the hallway, "Wait, wait come back, what is it?"

Freddy eyed him reluctantly before huffing, "...You cleaned Bonnie and Chica." 

Mike suppressed a malicious grin and feigned ignorance, "Yeah? No shit?" 

Freddy actually growled and Mike couldn’t hold back his giggles. Freddy blinked, obviously not expecting that reaction. Mike finally breathed, "Sorry I couldn’t resist!" 

Freddy glowered and Mike snickered, fearless. Perhaps the worst mistake Goldie had made was making him untouchable to the other animatronics, "C'mon you big fluffy fucker, I know you want a bath." 

He started down the hallway, Freddy following with another tired, disappointed, almost parental sigh. 

Mike glanced back at the bear, "You know, for being the leader and the scary one that only comes out in the dark, you’re kind of a pushover." 

Freddy frowned, "Excuse me?"

Mike waved, "You were just about to storm out instead of strangling me for a being a little shit. Not really good for your Fazfuckery reputation." 

Freddy really didn’t seem to like his cursing, "Being polite and being a pushover are two different things, Michael. I hope you know the difference between the two."

Mike hummed, "Nope, not really." 

Freddy relaxed his thick paws, "I should’ve known. You are _not_ polite."

Mike tilted his head, looking up at the bear, "Then enlighten me, shithead. What's politeness?" 

Freddy wrinkled his nose, "Not cursing for one." 

Mike shrugged, "Hey, you’d curse if you could, it’s your programming that doesn’t allow that." 

"Who told you that?"

"Bonnie."

Freddy growled deep in his throat, "I need to have a talk with Bonnie." 

Mike felt a little guilty for getting the rabbit into trouble, which he shouldn’t, the bunny deserved it (didn’t he?), and he deflected the topic hurriedly, "Well besides being able to probably express myself, what else doesn’t fit your standards?"

Freddy eyed him, "You have no verbal filter, Michael." 

Mike laughed, "Oh! So I’m too forward for you!" 

Freddy huffed, "No. Your frankness is one of your few admirable traits. No, that’s not the problem. The problem is you say things you shouldn’t, and are oblivious to the repercussions." 

Mike nodded, "Ohhh, like when Chica told me Foxy gave Ben a lobotomy." 

Freddy snapped, "Right there! That, Michael, that was uncalled for!" 

Mike grinned widely, "Why? It’s what happened. At least I don’t dance about the issue forever and then reveal some anticlimactic truth that could’ve solved all of our problems earlier if you’d just been direct about it." 

Freddy's eyes narrowed, "We seem to be getting off topic."

Mike snorted. Freddy began again, "There is an etiquette to things, Michael. Unspoken rules to follow. Proper decorum to adhere too. Not cursing is one of them, not putting your elbows on the table is another, no name calling, inside voices only, chewing with your mouth closed-" 

Mike realized what the bear was trying to say, "You mean to tell me you’ve got a list of playground rules up there? And you follow them?" He laughed, "You’re telling me that you’ve got a stick up your ass!" 

Freddy frowned, "The Rules must be followed, Michael." 

Mike shook his head, "Thats a load of shit. Snot-nosed toddlers are the ones meant to follow those rules! Not me!" 

Freddy arched an eyebrow, and sniffed almost daintily, "I do wonder if there’s a difference sometimes." 

Mike snapped, "Do you want your damn bath or not, asshole?" 

Freddy actually _grinned_, sensing that he had truly irritated the night guard, and tutted disapprovingly, "Oh, name calling again. Very mature, and against The Rules as well."

Mike's eyes narrowed, "Are you _teasing_ me, Fazfuck?" 

Freddy seemed prim and proper, "Absolutely not, Night Guard. I am the picture of professionalism, always." The slightly malicious spark in his optics said otherwise. 

Mike gaped, "Alright, now I’ve seen it all. Let’s get you your bath, asshat, before something else bizarre happens, like pigs flying or me winning the lottery." 

Freddy lumbered obediently after him. 

Something had changed, however. 

Whatever it was, Goldie was immensely pleased with it. 


	14. Foxy

**Part 3: game, set, match**

"I spy with my little eye... something blue." 

"_The sky!_" 

Mike snickered, "Nope. Try again." 

"_The... the... that car?_" 

Mike grinned, turning in the pizzeria's parking lot, "Do you give up?" 

"_No! No, I can get it, Mike! Is it... is it your uniform?_" 

"Guess again, kid." 

Mike parked the sputtering car and grabbed his backpack from the the passenger seat, pausing, as Goldie chimed in, "**_PeRhaPs iT is tHe rAiN pUddLeS?_**" 

Ben latched onto the idea, "_Oh that’s great! Is it the rain, Mike?_" 

Mike grinned, sharklike, "Nuh-uh, c'mon kid!" He looked at himself in the rearview mirror, raising an eyebrow, "Think about it." 

Ben was silent before he gasped, realizing Mike had put the answer right in front of his face, "_Oh! Your eyes! Your eyes, Mike!_" 

Mike finally moved, locking the car after he clambered out of it, "Yes, that’s it, Ben. There you go." 

"_Yes! That’s five out of four! I win!_" 

Mike shook his head, "Yeah, alright, kiddo. You're the shit."

He could feel Ben's smug satisfaction, as content as a cat with cream in the back of his head. Mike pretended he wasn’t smiling as he pushed open the door. 

After a quick rundown of the pizzeria, he settled himself at one of the dining tables, laying out his schoolbooks carefully. Ben quieted, doing whatever it was he did when he just... wasn’t. Goldie had tried explaining it, but it had mostly boiled down to something like sleeping... but not quite. Mike realized he’d drifted off into thought and shook himself before rereading the paragraph. 

Mike was thoroughly absorbed in his books by the time the clock struck twelve. He should’ve been paying more attention. As it was, he nearly jumped out of his skin when Chica leaned over him and asked, "Whatcha doing there, Mikey?" 

She sighed at his now normal torrent of expletives. Bonnie snickered from her right. Freddy shook his head. 

Mike huffed, his annoyance stemming from his unflattering yelp, "...And what the fuck do you want?" 

Chica shrugged, "Nothing really. Just wanted to know what you were up too?" 

Bonnie nodded, "Yeah. Looks pretty boring though." The bunny wrinkled his nose, "Jus' looks like school." 

Mike's brows wrinkled, "That’s because it is school." 

Chica eyed his books, "What school is it?" 

Mike's cheeks reddened, "I’m studying." 

Freddy joined the other two to peer at his 'fascinating' schoolbooks, "For what?" 

Was it just their imagination or had Mike's voice actually lowered with what seemed to be embarrassment, "... the GED."

Freddy picked up one of the closed books carefully, squinting at the cover, "What is a GED?" 

"It’s a uh test. That I’m studying for. Now scoot, I can’t concentrate with you guys here." Freddy nodded cordially and walked away, probably towards the entrance. Freddy liked to keep an eye on the doors, just out of sight from outsiders. Probably because he could make sure no one tried to break in. 

Chica gave a little goodbye wave before she made her way towards the kitchens. 

Bonnie pouted, stubbornly staying put, "But I’m _bored_, Mike!" 

Mike sighed, "Why don’t you go help Chica bake a cake or something?" 

Bonnie looked after the departing chicken, "...That’s actually a good idea." 

Mike rolled his eyes, "Well fuck a doodle doo, buddy. Get on with it." 

Bonnie cackled, moving away, "As long as you tell that to Chica one day. I want to see her face!" 

Mike shook his head and went back to his work. 

* * *

Mike sighed and closed his book, a headache decidedly coming on from all the reading, just as it usually did. There was a reason he’d dropped out of high school. Something stirred and then Goldie spoke, "**_MicHaEL siNcE yoU'rE fiNiShEd, tHeRe's sOmeThinG I'd liKe tO aDdReSs._**" 

Mike pinched the bridge of his nose, eyes clenched shut, "What?" 

"**_YoU nEeD tO tAlK tO FoXy. It'S bEen a mOnTh._**" 

Mike looked up, eyeing the dark entrance to Pirate's Cove, the curtains still and silent. Mike had occasionally heard clanking from within, which meant the fox animatronic was still undeniably there, but refusing to come out. Mike knew sometimes the other animatronics went in there, but Foxy had never appeared. He didn’t want to face Ben. 

That somehow almost made Foxy seem less scary- to know that the wickedly fast and terribly dangerous animatronic had a stupid pirate accent and was afraid of Ben, out of all things. There were far more dangerous things at Freddy Fazbear's to be scared of than _Ben_. 

The night guard’s lips thinned and the blue star-speckled curtains seemed to flutter. 

Mike sighed, "I gotta go in there, don’t I?"

"**_YeS. If tHeRe's oNe tHinG I knOw aBoUt FoXY, iT'S tHaT hE's uNbeliEvAbLy sTubBoRn._**" 

Mike breathed out through his nose, "Damn it, fine." He stood, straightening himself nervously before walking over to the suddenly ominous curtain. He could feel Ben awakening, the mention of Foxy drawing him back to the forefront of things. 

Mike braced himself and pulled the curtain back, light spilling into the gloom. Dust spiraled in the air, settling on the battered hull of a ship and other miscellaneous pirate decorations in various stages of decay. 

Mike swallowed when he got sight of the figure looming in the far corner, the light catching on the sharp teeth of the animatronic's broken jaw. 

The fox creaked, straightening uneasily. Mike's fingers dug into the curtain, "Hey, you big pointy asshole. Why’re you hiding in here? Can’t stand the sight of me?"

He looked around and shook his head with a low whistle, "You need to take better care of your shit, buddy." 

Foxy ground out, "An' what are you doin' over 'ere, laddie?" 

Mike took a step in, craning his head, "Where in the hell is the fuckin' light switch? You spend all your time in the dark?" The fox cocked his head and Mike sighed, "Well no wonder you’re fucking depressed." He frowned, "Wait, can animatronics even get seasonal depression?"

The fox growled, "Get out." 

Mike raised an eyebrow, "No." 

The fox snapped, taking a step forward so that he towered over the Mike, "Don' test me, Night Guard. I ain’t in th' mood." 

Mike put his hands on his hips, sneering as he said, perhaps unwisely, "_Bite me._" 

Ben winced in the back of his head and Foxy hissed, eyes bleeding black, "_Leave!_" 

"Fucking make me!"

They glared at each other, Mike tensed and utterly still, back arched, neck craning upwards to peer at the animatronic, fingers digging into his hips. Foxy was bent almost nose to nose with the night guard, ears flat against the back of his head, hook free at his side, feet braced against the floor. 

After a few minutes, all the tension seemed to drain from the fox, the animatronic going lax, "Fine, ye win lad. Jus'- jus' leave me alone." The animatronic retreated to its corner, throughly cowed, tail curling around his leg in a surprisingly animal-like characteristic. 

"_Mike... can... can I talk to him?_"

Mike's mouth twisted, "Sure, kid." He spoke a little louder, "Give it a try, Ben." 

One of Foxy's ears flicked upwards, as the night guard's blue eyes bled black. Mike, or not Mike, but Ben shuffled over, hands clasped earnestly in front of him, "_F- foxy?_"

Foxy drooped. 

Ben's earnest voice intermingled with Mike's usual tenor, pleaded with the wilting animatronic's back, "_Foxy, please... look at me?_" 

Reluctantly the fox glanced over its shoulder, and Ben sighed, a hesitant hand reaching up to rest on his shoulder, "_Foxy... It’s okay. It wasn’t your fault._" 

The animatronic whimpered and finally broke, stuttering, "I'm so _sorry_ lad I- I _never_\- I _couldn’t_\- I _tried-!_” 

"_Hey_," murmured Ben, voice gentle, black eyes softening, "_Hey, I know. I know._" 

The fox blubbered and Ben sighed, small smile filled with helpless endless fondness, "_Can we hug and make up, Foxy? I’ve been waiting for a terribly long time._" 

The fox nodded quickly, sweeping him up into a hug, "I’m sorry, lad, I’m _so_ sorry."

Ben patted the animatronics's back carefully, avoiding the holes and rips in his suit, "_It’s alright. I know. I forgive you._" 

Foxy murmured, "I’ve missed ye, lad." 

Ben buried his face into the worn red fur, he smiled and whispered too soft for the animatronic to hear, "_Thank you._" 

Mike's answer was felt, not voiced and Ben, for the first time in a long time, felt some semblance of peace. 


	15. +1 (Doll)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> In celebration of 200 stories on AO3, here’s an extra early chapter!

**Part 3: game, set, match**

Mike snapped, "Will you please stop fucking moving?” 

The fox held as still as possible, "Sorry lad." 

Another twitch and Mike glared at the fox sitting against the base of stage who tried his best to look cowed... and failed. 

Mike sighed, "Look, do you want your jaw fixed or not?" 

"I do, I do!" Mike turned to give Freddy a look that translated to 'can you believe this shit?' 

Freddy shook his head, "I’m afraid, Michael, that Foxy has always been full of restless energy. It’s one of the reasons the children love him so much." 

Chica nodded in agreement from where she was cradling Foxy's head in a desperate attempt to hold him still enough for Mike to get at the animatronics mouth, "He never needs to take a break, that’s for sure." 

Foxy grinned reflexively, broken jaw clanking and Mike flinched backwards to avoid getting his hand bitten off, "Foxy, what did I _just_ fucking tell you?" 

Foxy winced and Mike pried open the animatronic’s mouth again, "Now hold still because if you make me lose an arm, Goldie is gonna take over and pop your jaw off." 

Bonnie snickered from where he sat crosslegged on the stage next to Chica, open toolbox in his lap. Freddy chided the fidgeting animatronic, "Come now, Foxy. You don’t want to finally get sent to Parts and Services, do you?" 

Foxy sighed with a garbled, "Nuh-uh." 

Mike was elbows deep in Foxy's teeth now, brows furrowed with concentration as he asked carefully, "What’s in Parts and Services?" 

Chica looked uncomfortable, and Freddy kept silent, reluctant to say anything. Bonnie huffed, breaking the suddenly tense atmosphere, "It’s where the spare suits are kept. That and Spring Bonnie, and some other spare parts." 

Mike turned his head, eyes widening, "There are _more_ animatronics?" 

Freddy shook his head, "No. Spring Bonnie is just a... reminder. He hasn’t worked properly in years." 

Ben spoke up, "_Wait, but I remember there being another Bonnie. He was nice. And sometimes he gave me candy!_"

Mike hummed, "Ben says otherwise. He remembers there being another bunny."

Freddy waved a hand, "Oh, there was. See, this animatronics was special in the fact that humans could fold back the endoskeleton and wear them. Golden Freddy was one of them, though, he went by Fredbear back then... back when he was... solid." 

Mike wanted to question _that_ tidbit but the bear brushed over it, "Spring Bonnie, however, they brought out in ‘86, to be used as a suit for the employees." 

Chica smiled, "I miss Spring. He was really sweet and nice. Well, when people weren’t using him anyways." She sighed, "And then he had a malfunction with his locks a year or two later and well, someone had to be hospitalized. It was really terrible, he had to be shutdown and put in the back and everything." 

Mike frowned, "Oh." 

Bonnie snickered, "Didn’t they used to have two people on rotation sometimes? I could never tell who was who in him. Sometimes you were talking to Spring and then sometimes it was William or Jason. ...Jason was the one who got hurt, I think."

Ben pouted, "_Telling me that someone was in him almost the whole time really ruins the magic of it all._" 

Mike shook his head, returning to his clumsy repairs, "Sounds fucking creepy to me. Not knowing who you’re talking too." He shuddered, "Three people sharing a body? Sounds like a mental disorder." 

Foxy rattled, clearly trying to say something. 

Mike backed out, "What the hell is it now?" 

Foxy grinned maliciously, experimentally flexed his jaw, and spoke, "Three people sharing a body? That sounds like you." 

Mike's eyes narrowed, dropping the screwdriver and lunging at the animatronic, "Why you _fucker_-!” 

Freddy reacted immediately, grabbing Mike's shoulder, holding him back and preventing him from strangling the snickering animatronic. The bear leveled a disapproving glare at the fox, "Foxy, be nice." He added, "Michael, calm down." 

Mike glowered sullenly, "Maybe I _won’t_ fix your jaw. Maybe I’ll just leave it disconnected like that." 

Foxy grinned, "You won’t, Ben won’t let you." 

"_He’s right, you know._"

"_Oh_, fuck you!" 

Mike picked up the screwdriver he’d dropped and went back to work on the fox, lips thin with annoyance. 

Chica sighed, "How much longer, Mikey? I’d planned on cooking a pizza. There’s like three birthday parties tomorrow and the cooks need all the help they can get." 

Mike twisted up to glare at Chica, fingers covered with grease and and his left arm up to its elbow down Foxy's throat, carefully braced to avoid his terribly sharp teeth, "Chica. Does it look like I know how close I am to being done?" 

The chicken looked away in embarrassment, "No..."

Bonnie kicked his legs, sifting through the toolbox idly. He hummed when he saw the night guard's books scattered on the nearest dining table next to his discarded Night Guard cap, "Hey Mike... how come you never go to the office anymore? It might be more comfortable to study there." 

Mike answered without looking away from what he was doing, pressing a hand firmly on Foxy's jaw when the animatronic shifted, "Its too cold. The office is always freezing." 

Freddy frowned, "Maybe that room just has bad ventilation." 

Golden Freddy hummed, "**_FrEdDy iS riGhT._**" 

Mike shook his head, "I think the room is just naturally cold or something."

Chica tilted her head, "I don’t remember any of the other Night Guards being cold..."

"How the fuck would you know? You were trying to kill them every night, I doubt they told you whether or not it was too damned cold in there." 

Bonnie sighed, "Mike, none of them wore jackets."

Freddy frowned, "Maybe the fan is what's causing it." 

Foxy tried to speak, but whatever it was came out too garbled to tell. Chica patted his head reassuringly, "No, Mike threw the fan out. I remember him chucking it in the dumpster."

Bonnie opened his mouth but Mike interrupted him with a triumphant, "Ha!" He backed out of Foxy, brown hair mussed, grease on his nose and fingers, "As fascinating as this topic is, I’ve finished." He nodded at Foxy and pushed himself to his feet, "Go on, you big furry asshole, try to close your mouth all the way." 

The fox creaked, and with an anticlimactic snap, his jaw shut. Foxy grinned, opened it and then shut it again. The fox laughed, "Why I’ll be a monkey's uncle, lad! Ya did it!" The fox stood, parts rattling, "I can shut me jaw! Bonnie look!" 

Bonnie snickered, "You’re acting like a dingus, Foxy."

Chica nudged Bonnie, "Oh hush! He hasn’t been working properly for ages now. Leave him alone." 

"Thank ya, lass. And thank _you_, Mikey."

Mike flushed, "Don’t thank _me_, I did it for Ben."

Freddy shook his head, "Sure you did, Night Guard. I’m sure Ben and Goldie _forced_ you to do it." 

Foxy's grin widened, "Ah, Freddy, be nice to him. Ya can’t call 'im out like tha', not after all he’s done to help." 

Mike frowned at them, but his usual fierce and terrifying glare was undeniably mellowed by fondness. 

* * *

Mike stacked his books, sighing as he realized he'd forgotten to bring a bag yet again and that he would have to take two trips to get them all out to his car. He picked up his hat as an afterthought, yanking on the brim with annoyance. 

He turned at the sound of the door being unlocked and opening with a creak. A soft voice asked, "Hello?"

He blinked with surprise. 

It wasn’t Alan or Liam like he’d been expecting. In fact, it was someone he’d never heard before. Though to be honest, that wasn’t saying much. He’d never set foot in the pizzeria during working hours. 

Mike frowned. Whoever it was, they weren’t supposed to have a key. Only four people were even allowed to have one. Alan, Liam, Al, and himself. He set down the first stack of books, "Hey! Who the h-e-double fuck are you?"

After a short shocked pause, the trespasser moved further in, the light illuminating them, "Oh- I work here. Are you the night guard?" Dark auburn hair spilled in soft curls over a blue Fazbear uniform. She frowned at him, warm brown eyes bright, "Mike, right? Alan had the day off and I think Liam said he wasn’t going to arrive until after opening. They asked me to check on you." She looked around the pizzeria, "I don’t know why, though." 

"_Oh_... I- you- uhh." 

Her brows furrowed, "Are you okay?" 

Mike shook his head, "_You- you_ work _here?_ In _this_ shithole?" 

She blinked before laughing and stepping closer, "Well, I mean, you do too?" 

Mike nodded, looking at his books, trying to remember what he’d been thinking about, "Right. Well I’m fine, they don’t need to send someone to check up or anything. I don’t know why they sent someone to check on me- I’m perfectly fine." He knew full well _why_ they had sent someone to check in- but this lady clearly _didn’t_ and why _in the fuck_ they’d send her in when she wasn’t in the _know- _

"Well, I think I'd send somebody to check in." She shuddered, "These animatronics look way creepier in the dark." He looked up, eyes wide, realizing how close she’d gotten. His mouth went dry, "Well, they’re- they’re a lot nicer when you get to know them." 

She laughed again, nose scrunched with delight, lips pink and soft, "Really?" 

Mike nodded earnestly, cringing when his voice cracked, "Yeah, you- you really can’t judge a book by its cover." 

He swore he could hear Ben _laughing_ at him, the little _shit_. 

She smiled, "Oh? I suppose you’re right." The books on the table caught her eye, "Oh... do you need help carrying these out to your car?" 

Mike swallowed realizing she could probably read the title. The GED study guide was right on top. Well fuck. He nodded slowly, despite himself, "... I was planning on taking two trips." 

Her smile was so sweet and _so very_ kind, "Well, let me help you then, Mike." She brightened, "Oh, I haven’t told you my name yet!" 

Mike nodded at the name tag on her shirt, "Well, it does say it right there, ah, Amelia." 

She picked up his books, laughter turning embarrassed, cheeks tinged pink, "Oh, right. I forgot I had that on. Yeah, I’m Amelia Harper." 

Mike felt the weight of an unfamiliar smile, "Nice to meet you, Amelia, I’m Mike Schmidt. But I guess you, uh, knew that." 

She giggled and then added, "You um, you have..." she gestured at her nose with her free hand, "You have a spot." 

His eyes widened, almost going cross eyed, "Oh! Ah, fuck! I- I mean, sorry-“ he pulled the rag he’d been using earlier to wipe the grease off of his nose, feeling his face heat up, "I was cleaning the animatronics earlier and I didn’t- I guess I didn’t notice." 

Everything about her was so _soft_, Mike almost couldn’t believe it. Her smile took on a thoroughly amused edge as she answered, "Don’t sweat it. Besides, I thought it was kinda cute." 

If his face hadn’t been red before, it was definitely flaming now. He stuttered and, swallowing his futile attempts at a coherent reply, picked up his own stack of books instead. 

As they made their way to the door, she nodded at his books, "Studying for the GED?" 

Mike swallowed nervously, "Yeah- I uh, I dropped out of high school." 

She seemed to sense his discomfort, brows furrowing sympathetically, "I’m not judging you. What do you need the diploma for?" She smiled wryly, "Trying to get out of this 'shithole?'"

Mike looked up, almost as if he couldn’t believe it before spluttering, "Oh uh, actually no. I think... I think I’m gonna stay here. It’s not so bad." He pulled on the door, holding it open with his back, "I’d like to try and get into a community college, do some robotics and engineering things. What... what about you?" 

"Oh, me? Well..." 

The door shut behind them with a thunk. 

Bonnie hummed to the empty pizzeria, "You know... I think that’s the longest I’ve heard him go without cursing." 

Freddy chuckled knowingly. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Also I swear I didn’t mean for there to be romance, it just happened. I don’t think we ever "met" Doll so I took a few liberties with my spontaneous iteration of her. Also I know Fredbear and Golden Freddy aren’t the same animatronic, but ajaksks idc *chucks canon out a window*


	16. Revelations (1)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> We are entering into a new part today! And as you can tell by the name it’s gonna be exciting! Or at least I hope ya'll will find it exciting XD 
> 
> Also I hope everyone had a happy thanksgiving yesterday! (To all those who celebrate it at least) and lets take a moment of silence and pray for our poor retail workers risking their lives out there today 🙏

**Part 4: into the jaws of Death, into the mouth of Hell**

Mike sighed, tugging on the zipper of his jacket and bracing himself before summoning up the courage to open the door to Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria. He was immediately assaulted by noise and light and screaming children. Amelia had said the pizzeria was usually empty but apparently his day off was the absolute worst day to come in.

He scowled and hunched into his ragged jacket, shoulders drawn up to his ears. 

There was a reason he hadn’t wanted to be one of the daytime employees. Even now, a year and half since he’d began, five months since he’d reached a truce with the animatronics, he'd never had the slightest desire for customer service. But then, what sane person would? 

Alan was nowhere to be seen, unfortunately, but he caught sight of Liam disappearing down the hallway, probably headed to the security office. He followed, giving a small wave to Amelia. She waved back, smile wide and beatific before she returned to reassuring a frazzled parent and the crying toddler in their arms. 

They’d only known each other for a few months, but honestly she was the best thing that had ever happened to him. Ben hummed with agreement, "_You don’t curse as much when she’s around_." 

Mike shushed him. 

As Mike passed the stage, he could’ve sworn Chica had paused in the middle of a bit to stare at him, and he thought Bonnie had waved, but that could’ve been a high five to one of the kids below the stage. Freddy's slight nod was definitely aimed at him, however. Mike flipped him off for old times sake and he swore Bonnie laughed at that. Mike ignored the indignant stare one of the parents gave him when they saw. He escaped before they could approach him and demand he "obey the rules." Mike swallowed back laughter as he approached the office. 

Liam looked up at him when he knocked on the door, mouth flat and eyes bland as always. It was a customer service face, he could tell. Mike knew because when he’d been in retail that was the same face he made when working the register. 

Mike cleared his throat, "Hey, I was... I was wondering if you could help me with something." 

Liam raised an eyebrow, "With what?"

Mike sighed, "It’s just, I've been here for over a year. And Alan said you’d been here since, y'know, the murders." 

Liam sighed, clearly used to this question being asked of him, "You want to know what happened back then, then you can do some research." 

Mike's hackles raised, "Hey, shithead, I did that. I want to know what’s rumor and what’s real." 

Liam leaned back in his chair with an annoyed sigh, "...Alright, fine. What do you want to know?" 

Mike squinted suspiciously, but leaned back against the doorway, "The kids who were killed. Did they ever catch who did it?" 

Liam shook his head, "Nope." 

Mike frowned, “Right. Who was the night guard? At the time of the murders?" 

"...Why?"

Mike tried to look as innocent as possible, "Well, I mean, maybe they could shed some light on the subject." 

Liam eyed him carefully, "William Vincent Afton." Liam tacked on, "...He quit afterwards though. No one knows what happened to him." 

Mike nodded. At least he had a name now. 

Wait... hadn’t... "How many Williams worked here?"

"Just the one." Liam looked confused. 

So the same William who’d been a night guard had to have been the William in the Spring Bonnie suit. Mike swallowed, feeling sick. That hadto have been how the sick fuck had gotten the kids away right under everyone's noses. 

Liam added, "It couldn’t have been him, though. No one even knows if they were actually killed here." 

Mike wrinkled his nose, "What?"

Liam scratched absently at the light scruff on his chin, "The kids disappeared here, but their bodies weren’t found until months later, when some schmuck did some renovations and found them in the ground." 

Liam leaned forward, expression changing for the first time, something dark in his eyes, "Though, I will tell you a secret, Schmidt." 

Mike leaned forward despite himself, "What?"

"I put 'em there." 

Mike's heart stopped. 

Liam snickered, leaning back, "No, no I’m kidding." 

Mike breathed again and Liam continued, "But not really. Fazbear corporation secret for you, those kids were found stuffed in the animatronics a week after the incident. They thought it would be even worse for the business if it got out that someone had killed four kids here, hid their bodies inside the animatronics, and no one even noticed for a week and only then, because they started smelling.” Liam sighed, "So I got stuck with disposing of them. Should’ve picked a better place. I almost got fired when their mangled bodies showed up." 

Mike gaped, "Are you shitting me? That’s- that’s-“ 

"Unethical? Immoral? Illegal?" He scoffed, "Who’s gonna believe you?" 

Mike's lips thinned. 

Liam slumped, almost defeated, "Its the way of the world, Schmidt. Get used to it."

Mike almost called him out on that ass backwards way of thinking but he remembered something he’d said. Mike titled his head, "Five kids were murdered here, right?" 

Liam frowned, "Four." 

"Four? What about the bite victim? That whole ‘87 business?" 

Liam shrugged, "Kid's still alive. Next question."

Mike straightened, "Wait, what the fuck do you _mean_ the kid is still alive?"

Liam was glaring at him now, "What do think I mean, asshole? The kid is still alive. Benjamin something or other- Gonzales, I think. You can look it up and everything. The kid's alive and kicking."

Mike's eyes widened all other thoughts fleeing, "Excuse me- I’ve- I’ve got to-“ he bolted, walking as fast as he could without running, down the hallway. Betrayal and fear tied his stomach up in knots.

Golden Freddy murmured, "**_BeNjaMin iS sTill aLiVe?_**" 

Mike hissed to himself in the empty hallway, "You heard him, why would he lie about something like that?" 

"_I can’t be alive! If I’m alive then how am I here?_" 

Mike stormed into the main part of the pizzeria, nearly flattening a toddler in his haste. He murmured a quick apology and escaped out the front door into the parking lot, "If you’re not Ben, then who the fuck are you?" 

Golden Freddy interjected, "**_MiChAel, iT’s BeN- iT hAs tO Be- tHis dOeSn’t mAkE aNy sEnSe-!_**” 

Mike's voice was low and cold, "How can you be sure?" 

Ben wailed, "_I’m not him! I could never be him!_" 

Mike yanked open the door of his car, "You better not be fucking lying to me." 

"_**MiChAeL-**_“ 

Mike sat down, "Shut the fuck up, both of you. We're getting some answers." He started the car, the engine sputtering to life, "We're finding this Benjamin Gonzales and we're paying him a visit." 

* * *

Liam sat in his office, brows furrowed at Mike's abrupt departure. He returned to studying the cameras intently, brows furrowed. He didn’t like all the questions Mike had been asking. He tugged the brim of his security hat downwards and sighed, hands moving to scratch the back of his neck being tickled by the hairs of his ponytail. 

Why had Mike asked about the old night guard?

What would Fazbear corporate do if they found out someone was poking their nose in their sordid affairs?

Unease made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up and Liam shook his head, trying to concentrate on his work. Whatever the hell Mike was up to was none of his business. 

He watched Mike practically run out of the pizzeria on the cameras. 

The chronically nervous night guard had better get ahold of himself, or else the animatronics were going to get him one day. 


	17. turn the lights off

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just realized how close we were. Like one more chapter fam. Until the real fun stuff can begin XD

**Part 4: into the jaws of Death, into the mouth of Hell**

Mike tried to ignore the confusion and fear radiating like waves in the back of his head. Mike couldn’t bring himself to do anything, not yet, not until he figured out whether or not the thing in him was a deranged murderer or not. Goldie's nudge of disapproval was absolutely not appreciated. Trust had been broken, and Mike refused to feel guilty until he was able to confirm it was Ben and not something simply pretending to be him. He wanted to be abso-fucking-lutely sure before he bet everything on this insane job. Surely they could understand that. 

Mike parked his car, grimacing at the gas prices he was sure to be racking up from the hour and half drive to the address he’d found after a few hours of research in the library. He'd had to comb through so many newspapers and then a couple phone books in order to find it. 

All that effort for a small house at the end of a long gravel driveway sagging sadly on its foundations. All of that for a woman named Pamela Gonzales.

The gravel crunched underfoot as he made his way to the door, no sidewalk visible underneath the overgrown grass and weeds. He swallowed nervously, running a hand through his flyaway hair, before knocking on the stained door. 

He heard footsteps and then, the door opened slightly to reveal a small haggard woman, who- if it was even possible- looked even more exhausted than he did, "Yes?" She eyed him distrustfully, "I'm not buying anything." 

Ben stirred, "_Mom?_" 

Mike shook his head, ignoring Benjamin's plaintive cry, "Uh, no, ma'am. I’m uh, a- uh, journalist- I’m doing a-“ 

Her dark brows drew down, "Again? What more do you people want from me?" 

Mike winced, "Just a few... clarifying questions ma'am." 

She sighed, hugging herself, "Well, you can’t come in." 

Mike nodded, "That’s fine. I’m just here to- to look at things from five years after the fact... I must ask- how... how is your son?" 

She made a face, "Brandon is with his father, halfway across the country. We're divorced." 

"Oh-" Mike tried to be tactful, "I’m- I’m sorry. But... I was asking about Benjamin."

She sighed, "He’s the same. The doctors say he’s in a permanent vegetative state. I’ve been paying the bills, just hoping he'll wake up but... it’s been five years. He’s eleven now. It’s- he’s-" she sniffed, "Its a difficult subject." 

She laughed brokenly, "At least those- those other children the ones who were- killed... at least they got closure- at least they _knew_\- and I know that sounds so selfish. My son is _alive_. At least in some way- just- not where it counts." 

Ben was completely, disturbingly silent. 

Mike swallowed past the knot in his throat, "I’m sure your son would want you to live." He eyed the rotting house and the wilting person in front of him, "He wouldn’t want you to waste away." 

She shook her head, "Is this interview over?" 

Mike nodded slowly, "Yes." 

She retreated inside, slamming the door. 

Mike sighed. 

Ben whispered, "_Can we go now, Mike?_" 

"Yeah, sure kid. We can go."

He needed to find out what had happened to William Afton. The whole twisted matter needed to be put to rest once and for all. 

But where to start? The library had yielded no results after he quit. No mentions in the newspapers, no forwarding address, and no phone number in the phone book. Almost as if he’d vanished off the face of the earth. Maybe he could check the employee records. Alan had said the whole pizzeria had been redone after the murders, the restaurant and its employees. There had to be some record somewhere. 

He sat down in his car, pausing. Wait. He hadn’t checked for information from before the murders. Maybe there was some article from before everything that could lead to him. 

A clear destination in mind, Mike sighed, checked the time, and then pulled out. He didn’t have enough time before the night shift. 

Tomorrow then. 


	18. everybody likes to get taken for turns

**Part 4: into the jaws of Death, into the mouth of Hell**

Mike snored quietly, head pillowed in his hands. 

Chica murmured, "That can’t be comfortable." 

She was, of course, referring to how he was flopped in one of the dining room chairs, upper half resting on the hard wooden table. 

Foxy nodded in agreement from where he sat across from the Night Guard, studying the open books with curiosity. 

Bonnie sighed dramatically, "Why'd he have to fall asleep? This is so boring." 

Freddy sighed, "Bonnie, humans need their sleep. It’s not his job to keep you entertained."

They all jumped when Mike spoke, Foxy's too large frame fell backwards, chair hitting the ground with a crash, "_**We'Ve bEeN bUsy tOdAy.**_" 

Bonnie snapped, "Geez, Goldie! Warn a guy before you do something creepy like that!"

Foxy sat up, frowning with annoyance as he attempted to return to his precarious position on the too small chair. 

Mike sat up, somehow both limp and tense at once, moving as if someone was yanking on him with strings. Mike hadn’t blinked yet, eyes black and pupils shining white, "**_MiKe iS cLoSe tO fiNdInG tHe pUrPLe gUaRD." _**

The atmosphere in the room dropped drastically. 

Goldie continued, confident that he now held their attention, "**_ThE nAmE oF tHE kiLLeR iS WilliAm AfTon._**" 

Chica gaped, "Wait- wait, William?" 

Bonnie's ears drooped, "_Spring’s_ William?" 

Goldie nodded, Mike's head jerking unnaturally, eyes wide and unblinking, "**_MiKe iS sTiLL fOrMuLAtinG sOmE tHeOries bUt he bElieVes tHat WiLLiaM miGhT'Ve uSeD SpRinG tO lUrE tHe ChilDren aWaY._**" 

Chica shuddered, "That’s- that’s horrible!” 

Foxy blinked away the darkness and the rage pulsing from his Child. It was lucky that William wasn’t here anymore, or who knew what the Children would do to get at him, "Goldie do... do ya think tha' was the real reason Spring was put away? I mean, his locks had always been... unreliable but the- the depth 'o tha' malfunction had awfully convenient timing..." 

The others clearly didn’t want to contemplate that Jason's accident had not really been an accident but a deliberate attempt to sabotage Spring and prevent the animatronic from doing anything about... about William- because surely the bunny had intended to do something if he was a witness to such a crime... 

They were silent for a moment and then, "_Foxy..._" 

Foxy looked up at Ben's quiet voice emanating from the Night Guard, "Yes, lad? What's wrong?" 

"_Did you know... I’m still alive?_" 

Freddy blinked, "What?" 

"_I’m in a coma or something. Mike... he- he went to see my mom..._" black tears welled up, "_My body is alive, but my brain is dead. That must be why I’m more here than the others- and- and Foxy, my mom is still waiting for me to come back!_" 

He stood, hands shaking, "_She’s still waiting for me. After all this time, she was there! Right in front me and she was so sad, Foxy!_" 

Foxy spoke gently, standing up, "Calm down, lad. It’s alright-“ 

The room darkened as Mike, as _Benjamin_, whirled, "_No! It’s not alright! I was right there! I was right in front of her and I couldn’t help her at all! What if I pass on? What then? How long is she going to wait for me? I’m dead! Dead!_" 

Chica shifted uneasily, Bonnie moving closer on instinct at the chicken's plaintive, "Ben, please." 

Ben wiped at his eyes, catching sight of Mike's rough palms and long fingers as Foxy moved closer, "_I’m in someone else's body. I’m a spirit. I don’t belong here anymore. Why can’t I... why can’t we just go home? Go away?_" 

Ben pleaded with the animatronics, "_And what happens when the Purple Guard- when Afton is taken care of? My friends will pass on. They’ll be at peace- but me? I think I'm stuck here. How will I know when it’s my time?_" 

Foxy put a hand on his shoulder and Ben's eyes turned on him, searching for answers none of them knew. 

The animatronic thought for a minute and then spoke, "Lad, Mike'll take care 'o it." 

"What?" 

Foxy continued, growing more confident, "He'll take care 'o you. He’s the most capable Night Guard any of us have ever seen. If anyone can help you, he can." Foxy smiled, "Though I don' think he'll be able to recharge if yer throwing his body around like tha'." 

Ben sniffed and then nodded, the darkness retreating, "_I’m sorry. I didn’t mean too._" 

Foxy pulled him in for hug, "Yer still only a Child, Ben, yer allowed a tantrum every once 'n awhile- terrifying ghost or not." 

Ben smiled gratefully though his tears, voice thick, "_Thank you, Foxy._"

* * *

Several hours later, Alan leaned back in his chair, for once not chewing tobacco. That was mostly because he was on the clock and that wasn’t allowed at Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria, as Al had reminded him several hundred times. 

He shook his head, teeth worrying on his lower lip. 

That Mike was going to be the death of him someday. Mostly because he’d caught him ten hours earlier running out of the pizzeria like a fire had been lit under him. And if that wasn’t worrying enough, when Alan had asked him why, the kid had told him. He regretted asking now. 

Mike had told him he’d been investigating the murders that had happened five years ago, and he’d said he had a pretty good idea about who'd done it and exactly how. William Afton, former night guard, Mike claimed, had worn an animatronic suit and lured the kids away from their parents to the back room where he’d kept and killed them. Apparently all the kid had to do was find out what had become of him and then the whole thing would supposedly be solved. 

As if him going after a murderer wasn’t supposed to worry him? 

Alan jumped at the knock on the cleaning closet's door. A moment later the knob turned and Liam poked his head in, eyebrows scrunched with worry, "You feeling okay there, Alan?" 

He must’ve been in here longer than he thought. 

Maybe it would do him good to talk about the insanity Michael had gotten into. 

Alan shook his head, "No, m'afraid I’m not Liam. Mike is being awful stupid." 

Liam sighed, and came in, closing the door behind him with a soft fond chuckle, "When is he not?" 

"This is different though. This is a whole ‘nother can of worms. Did you know he’s investigating the murders?" Liam blinked, "He asked me some stuff. I’d sorta gotten an inkling..."

"He told me that’s he’s real close. He thinks it’s some old night guard, William Afton. He’s gonna get in real trouble with Al. Corporate could sue him!" 

Liam's brows furrowed with concern, "Maybe they’d make him disappear. I wouldn’t put it past them to do that." 

Alan stood, "I’ve got to talk to him!" 

Liam shook his head, "Hold up, Alan. You can’t go rushing off in the middle of the day. And he hasn’t told anyone else. He’ll be fine for a few hours." 

Alan sighed, thinking, "Yes, you’re right, sorry son." He added, "We can wait for him after closing."

Liam gave him a tight half smile, worry for the older man clear in his eyes, "I don’t want _you_ getting in trouble though. They’d have a problem firing me- seeing as how I’ve been here so long, but not you. If I’m the one to tell him, and to help him go about it carefully, you might not get in trouble." 

Alan nodded slowly. 

Liam smiled at him, obviously still worried at this turn of events. He stood up and opened the door, "I’ll help him. You go home tonight, so as to avoid the appearance of plotting and then tomorrow morning we can all casually meet up. Discuss our options."

Alan sighed fondly, "Thank you. My mind was whirling in circles over it all." He added, relief coloring his words, "That’s how you’ve survived here so long, Liam. You’re sharp as a tack." 

Liam laughed, before turning to leave, "Thanks, Alan."

The door closed behind him with a soft click.


	19. to see how bright the fire inside of us burns

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry this is late!! It totally slipped my mind!

**Part 4: into the jaws of Death, into the mouth of Hell**

Amelia hummed to herself as she carefully placed two slices of roast beef on the sandwich bread. Lettuce followed, and then mustard and mayonnaise.

Tonight, hopefully, was the night.

She’d been planning it for a few weeks now and, if all went well, she would have a date for next Saturday with the night guard at work.

She knew Monica, the part-time cashier, didn’t understand her infatuation with the man. Monica had stated her reasons to dislike him quite eloquently. (To be honest, things she didn’t like was the sole thing that Monica waxed poetic about.)

Mike Schmidt was too gangly, Monica had said, he was perpetually exhausted, and far too sharp with everyone he met. He had no manners of any kind, he cursed every other word, and hated pretty much everything with a ridiculous passion.

Amelia had fought back to the best of her ability. He was cute. (Monica had snorted at that with a "No, honey, he really isn’t. That’s just you.") He didn’t hate everything, and Amelia had sworn that his expletives-to-normal adjectives ratio decreased exponentially in her proximity. (Monica had conceded to that, though she told her to tone down the big words. She was well aware that she was a math major. Amelia had flushed with embarrassment there.) He also seemed to relax in Liam's and Alan's presence, and, Amelia had sworn, in one of those in-between moments, he’d actually smiled. At nothing. Or the animatronics. He'd been staring off into space, so it was hard for to tell. Monica had rolled her eyes, opened her dark lips to argue, and then they’d been told to quit loafing around by Al, effectively ending the conversation.

Amelia finished the sandwiches. Well, if Monica was right and Mike turned out to be awful and a bit of a loon, she’d at least know.

She still doubted it though. Mike could be strange sometimes, but he wasn’t cruel. His sharp edges seemed to be hiding soft places.

Plus, Mike was an adventure just waiting to happen, she knew it. Something peculiar was going on at the pizzeria and she was sure the night guard was in the thick of it.

She wrapped the sandwiches in plastic carefully, lips pursing. Hopefully, Mike wouldn’t mind her surprising him on his shift tonight with dinner. It shouldn’t, though. She’d done a short stint as one of the nightshift at another restaurant. It could get pretty monotonous and she would’ve appreciated someone surprising her with dinner. Besides, Alan hadn’t taken his key back yet so it had to be fate.

Amelia smiled thinking of Mike. They meshed well, he made her laugh at the strangest things, and he let her ramble about math even though he clearly didn’t understand a word of what she was saying.

What wasn’t to like?

* * *

Alan ran a hand through his grey hair, exhausted and weary. His stomach was still tied up in knots over Michael. Shaking his head, he unlocked the door to his apartment and shuffled in. He was getting too old to be worrying this much. Liam could handle Mike, maybe talk some sense into him. And tomorrow morning, they would come up with a game plan instead of Mike going after someone he suspected to be a cold-blooded killer all by himself. 

Alan sighed, tossing his keys on the counter as he saw the answering machine blinking insistently.

He played the message, toeing off his boots idly. 

"_Alan! It’s Mike! I’m outside the library and I’ve fucking found him! And you won’t believe this shit! Alan, we're a bunch of fucking morons! Shit for brains! Jackasses!_" Alan frowned. The night guard was working up to an impressive froth, "_I’ve got to go, I'm going to be late for my shift but we're in a fuckton of trouble._" 

He heard shuffling and then, "_Thank fuck I didn’t say anything, who knows what he’d do if he knew I was actually close. I figured out why William Afton disappeared. He changed his fucking identity, Alan! I don’t know how, or why, but that’s the only explanation. Unless the sick sack of shit had a secret twin- but anyways!_" 

Alan leaned forward, pausing with his jacket half off, as he listened intently, "_I only recognized him from the picture they put in the papers from years ago when he was arrested for something petty- but Alan! Alan you can’t tell him anything- William Afton is Liam! Fucking Liam! I feel like a complete moron! Liam is a fucking- a fucking nickname for William! What an arrogant asshole! Can you believe it?_" 

Mike cursed again, voice tinny and utterly unaware, "_Anyway, I need to go now! Don’t flip the fuck out yet, keep it cool until we can meet up in like, six or seven hours? Shit, I can’t fucking believe-_“ the message clicked off. 

Alan stood frozen, eyes wide, horror crawling up his back, realization settling in his stomach like a lead weight. 

_Liam_ was the killer. Liam was William Afton. 

And Liam was at the pizzeria, right now, waiting for Mike. 

Probably to kill him. 

Liam was lying in wait for his oblivious prey- _for Mike_ because _he_ was a _fucking idiot-! _

Alan shoved his feet back in his shoes, nearly tripping as he whirled towards the door. He grabbed his keys almost as an afterthought, the door banging behind him as he fled into the cold evening damp, burgeoning clouds clustering ominously on the dark horizon. 

The rusty pickup peeled away, his apartment door still cracked from his abrupt departure, warm lamplight spilling out into the night. 

Only a few inquisitive insects were present half an hour later to witness Alan's clocks striking twelve. 

* * *

Mike fumbled with his keys, unlocking the doors to the pizzeria. He couldn’t fucking believe that he’d found Afton- that Afton was Liam! How hadn’t he seen it? The guy had a sick sense of humor- but that certainly wasn’t a basis for being a serial killer. Hell, he could be pretty fucking dark too. Liam's careful probing for information was too- too _normal_ for him to notice. Anyone would want to know why he asking so many questions- there wasn’t a clandestine thing about it. But still, _shit_. 

Mike grimaced at the time on his watch. It was only eleven thirty, he still had thirty minutes before the animatronics became active. He dumped his keys on the table farthest away from the stage with a clatter, flopping down in one of the dining chairs, foot tapping the stained tile impatiently. 

Golden Freddy hissed, "_**I wiLL KiLL hIm MiChAel.**_" 

Mike stopped himself from emphatically agreeing and shook his head, "No, we can’t. The last thing we need is another sketchy murder. We'll turn him into the police. Alan will know what to do." 

Being the rational one sucked ass.

Goldie murmured darkly, "**_He WiLL pAy fOR wHaT hE hAs dONe._**" 

Mike folded his arms, "Yeah, no shit. We _will_ catch the fucker." He tacked on, "But we're gonna do it right." Mike shuddered, "Besides. Imagine if _his_ ghost started haunting this place." 

Ben spoke cautiously, "_I think… that I agree with Mike._" 

"**_WeLL,_**" Goldie conceded fondly, "**_I cAn'T aRgUE wiTh tHAt._**" 

Mike shook his head, allowing the hint of a smile at Goldie's utterly undeniable affection for the kid, and looked up. His brows furrowed from under his night guard cap when he saw the camera blinking red in the dining room corner, "Why are the cameras running...? Is someone here-?” 

He heard a creak behind him, but, before he could turn, there was a jarring clang- pain exploding at the back of his head that was worse than _anything_\- and then the world went black.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> You were absolutely right Uhum!!!! :D


	20. and everybody wants to get evil tonight

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter is one of the reasons this fic is rated M so beware XD 
> 
> (It’s just for violence nothing more!)

**Part 4: into the jaws of Death, into the mouth of Hell**

Mike groaned, his head was fucking killing him. Goldie needed to put away the damn jackhammer.

Ben whispered, terrified, "_He can’t answer you, Mike. He’s busy!_”

"Wow, Mike. You’re still alive?"

Mike blinked, squinting, the pizzeria's lights far too bright. He tasted copper, and he swallowed, grimacing at the thick metallic smell.

Liam stood over him, a hand on his hip, the other holding onto one of the kitchen's large cast iron pizza pans. His head throbbed. Was he leaning back against one of the table legs? How'd he even end up on the floor?

Liam whistled as Mike tried to move, fingers merely twitching, "Holy _shit_, Schmidt. You’re still moving."

He crouched down, "_Damn._"

Mike's brows drew down, the gears in his brain turning at an abysmally slow rate, almost as if he were trying to see through a cloud of fog or move through a thick swamp, "Did you… did you hit me with that- that fuckin' huge… huge ass thing?"

Liam studied him, "Mikey boy. How are you even talking?"

Ben whispered, breathless and scared out of his mind, "_Mike, don’t move. Not yet._"

The wood of the table leg pressed into his back. The slightest movement made his head pulse with pain, "What th' hell makes you think I- I even _can?_"

Liam tilted his head at the nonsensical reply, "Uh, you okay there, Mike?" He snorted, "That’s a dumb question. Never mind." He adjusted his hat, "You’ll be dead soon. No matter how your head goes."

Mike blinked, he twitched his fingers again, trying to ignore the ringing in his ears, "…What?"

Liam nodded, "Mike, I hit you pretty damn hard. The amount of blood on you right now… it’s uh… it’s pretty impressive. I’d say I cracked your skull in. I wouldn’t be surprised if that hat is the only thing keep your brain in there." He studied him, almost like a bird studying an insect, "I haven’t seen a sight like that in awhile. Skull fragments, shattered chips of bone and grey matter and all that beautiful _blood_. It’s kinda pretty, you know. They complement each other. Red and white, that is."

Ben hissed, voice shaking with anger, "_He’s right about your head being in bad shape. Goldie's working on it right now. You’ll be fine. Just- just try not to move._"

Mike was feeling too fucking poorly to even be worried. Liam reached out and held two fingers to the night guard’s neck, digging under the bottom of his chin. Mike flinched, hissing, "Get th' hell away from me, asshole." The movement made colors splash across his vision, black encroaching on the edges of his sight.

He couldn’t pass out now, not when Liam- when _William_ was right there, dangerous and utterly unhinged.

Liam grinned, the expression unnatural on him, "Calm down, Mike, just checking your pulse. It’s a little thready, but stronger than I expected. You might even make it to midnight." 

He tapped Mike's nose, his touch making the night guard feel almost dirty, "Not that you’ll want to make it till twelve. The animatronics will stuff you a suit, just like the others." A chuckle and, "Kind of ironic, that they’re almost copying me." He glanced at Mike's watch, "Oh, that’s in ten minutes. Looks like it’s my cue." He grinned and stood, "Say hello to the kids for me, huh?"

Mike hissed, "You_ sick fuck._"

Liam shrugged turning to go, "Perhaps."

If he could only stall him until the animatronics woke! Mike blurted, breath hitching, "Why’d… why’d you do it?"

Liam paused, grin widening, “Because I could." A moment later he added, "Because it was _fun_. I mean, I just hate kids, don’t you? Loud and annoying and so fucking _stupid_. And _innocent_. They just trust anyone who comes along." He sighed, "It was a shame when I found the damn yellow Bonnie suit could record things."

Liam looked at the pizza pan in his right hand, fingers pressed against the cast iron, he swiped his thumb across the rim. It came back red and slick with Mike's blood. He eyed it carefully, "I’d forgotten how thrilling it was. Maybe I’ll start again, in some other place." He glanced at Mike again, eyes shining from underneath the brim of his security hat, "Five years is long enough for people to feel safe again, right? To get caught off guard?"

Mike glared, fury making his arms tremble as Ben murmured, "_Not yet, Mike._"

Liam softened, "Aw, don’t look so wretched, Mike. You’re the start of something new."

Mike spat, "_Fuck you._"

Liam grinned, "See you around, Mike."

The guard walked away, disappearing around the corner of the dining room.

Mike gasped, "Fucking come back here, you shithead!"

At the lack of response, Mike cursed, "Ben, what’s going on?"

Ben whimpered, "_He- He killed you! Goldie was able to keep you here, but barely! It was so scary, Mike. We didn’t even hear him coming and then… then you just weren't… you weren’t there_ _anymore._"

Mike coughed, closing his eyes, "Its okay, kid. The bastard won’t get the drop on me again."

* * *

"Mike? Mike!"

Mike opened his eyes, frowning as Amelia, of all people, leaned over him, trembling hands reaching for his face, thinking better of it and then fluttering around his limp hands.

"Amelia? Th' fuck you doing here?"

"Oh thank, God." Her smile had a distinctly watery edge to it, "I was- I was waiting for you. So that your shift wouldn’t be as boring- and… I just flipped through the cameras and I saw- I saw Liam-!”

She carefully brushed a hand across his forehead, touch featherlight, fingers trembling, "I thought you were dead."

Mike's eyes softened, "Thought I was too, to be honest."

She shook her head, "Why would he do that?"

Mike blinked muzzily, "I found out he’s the- the asshat who killed those kids." 

Amelia gaped, "What? He… holy _shit_."

Mike laughed, "Understatement of the fucking century."

A murmur in the back of his mind interrupted his relief, "_**MiChAeL… I'm qUiTE dRaiNeD. YoU mUsT gEt tO AfToN aND sUbDuE hiM. ThE aniMaTrONicS wiLL tEAR hIM aPaRt aS wEll aS aNyOnE wHo gEtS iN tHeIr wAy.**_"

Mike nodded, sitting up, Amelia protested, hands grabbing at his shoulders, "No, Mike, don’t!"

There was little pain, despite the dull ache in his head. Goldie was a fucking miracle worker.

"I’m fine. We’ve got bigger problems."

"What? But I saw him hit you! The blood alone!" She cautiously felt the back of his head, astonishment coloring her features, "Why… there’s, there’s nothing!"

"Yup." He winced, his shirt sticky and damp from blood, "Mostly." Mike stood, stumbling. Amelia straightened with him, "I don’t _understand_."

They both jumped, the clock striking twelve. Mike's eyes widened, "Oh _fuck_."

"Mike- ?"

And then, to Amelia's surprise, the animatronics on the stage across the room _moved_.

Freddy Fazbear glanced between the two of them, and even more bafflingly, spoke, “Michael, what is she doing here? What’s going on?"

Chica asked, "Mike… Is that _blood?_”

Bonnie sputtered, "Did you finally murder someone, Mike?"

Mike returned fire as if the whole exchange was a normal one, "We’ve got a problem, Fazfucks."

Amelia sized up the animatronics before settling on the only rational reaction to such a situation, "What in the _fuck_ is going on?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> R&R!! ^-^


	21. but all good devils masquerade under the light

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry that this update is late, I completely forgot!

**Part 5: To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield**

Alan pulled into the parking lot, tires squealing as he made the sharp turn. He turned to get out of his idling pickup, thought better of it, and grabbed the shotgun he kept in the back. People tended to be wary of him having a gun, not that he didn’t blame them, but he sure appreciated having one now.

Alan stuffed his keys into his pocket, and, checking that the safety was on, started towards the pizzeria.

Alan froze as he caught sight of a familiar hunched figure leaning against the restaurant's brick walls, the glow of a cigarette in his left hand.

_Liam._

Alan cursed as he walked forward, fingers white against the weapon. He could see when the daytime security guard saw him holding the gun. He straightened, dropping his cigarette and grinding it beneath the heel of his boot. Alan swallowed, ignoring the hoarseness coloring his voice, "Say, Liam. How'd, uh, how'd your talk with Mike go?"

Liam frowned, staying put in the shadow of the pizzeria, "I’d say it went rather well. Are you… are you planning on finally putting down the animatronics?"

"Maybe."

Now that the janitor was closer he could see stains on Liam's sleeves, splattered and darkening the front of his shirt.

Alan lifted his shotgun, "Alright enough with the horseshit. What'd you do to Mike?"

Liam's mouth twisted with admiration and annoyance, "He told you, didn’t he."

Alan snapped, "Where's Mike, _William?_"

Liam- no, William sighed, "Dead by now. You’re welcome to join him, if you’d like. I’m sure the animatronics are in no way sated."

Alan cursed, "Alright, that’s it, asshole. Start moving. We're going inside."

William frowned, straightening, "Are you serious right now, Alan? There are four crazy animatronics in there-“

Alan barked, "I’ve got a shotgun, I’ll take care of them. Now move!"

William raised his eyes heavenward and held his hands up non-threateningly, "Fine, if you want to go on this suicide run, who am I to stop you?"

* * *

Mike held up his hands, "Guys, I need you to stay calm."

Freddy fixed him with worried optics, "Michael, you appear to be covered in a disconcerting amount of blood. Are you alright?"

Mike wrinkled his nose, "More or less, thanks to Goldie."

Foxy eyed Amelia, who was standing behind Mike, dark eyes wide, "Lad why did ye bring someone here after dark? Surely you know tha's against The Rules."

"The Rules can go fuck themselves right now, Foxy. We've got bigger fish to fry. I found William Afton and he’s fucking alive and kicking and feeling particularly murderous."

Chica shuddered, "What? You can’t be- he can’t be-" Bonnie patted her shoulder, protesting, "Well then where is he? I’d like to get my hands on him!"

Mike shushed them, "No, fuck no, none of you are getting anywhere near that asshole. We don’t know what the Children will do. The last thing we need right now is four vengeful children ripping apart their killer and everyone else in the vicinity right in the damn dining room."

Foxy nodded, "You do have a point there, lad."

Bonnie frowned disapprovingly at him.

Foxy shrugged, "Well, he does!"

Amelia interjected at that point, and Mike jolted, wincing at the sudden movement, having almost entirely forgotten about her, "I’m an employee here, just not part of the nightshift." She stepped around the night guard, eyeing the huge animatronics, "Are you all… _alive?_"

Freddy eyed her warily, "That’s up for debate?"

Amelia turned to face Mike, eyes sparkling, "Why didn’t you tell me the animatronics were- were intelligent?"

Mike snorted, "The jury's still out on that one."

Freddy tilted his head at Mike, huffing disapprovingly, "Michael."

Mike shook his head, "It’s just complicated. But I’ve got to go, William might not have gotten far-"

Amelia's brows furrowed, "Why do you keep calling Liam William?"

"Because that’s his real name!"

Chica gaped, "_Liam_ is William?"

Freddy's optics darkened, "He was here the whole time?"

The group was interrupted then by someone calling, "Mike? Mike, are y'there?"

Mike turned, "The fuck is Alan doing here? Did you invite the whole damn pizzeria, Amelia?"

Then, to the night guard's utter surprise, Liam sauntered in, hands held upwards in a show of surrender, Alan behind him with a shotgun raised defensively.

Mike blinked, "What in the fuck?"

The animatronics were silent, eyes narrowing in on Liam's sulking form. Alan stared at the group, "Mike, what the hell is going on?"

Mike whirled back around, ignoring Alan, blue eyes widening as he saw the black crawling over the animatronics optics, white pupils glowing, "Oh _fuck_ me."

He turned, grabbing Amelia's hand and running, "Alan, back the fuck up right now!"

Amelia followed with little protest, "Mike- what are you doing?"

The older man paled, "Oh shit-"

Liam and Alan whitened, the animatronics already converging on them. Mike jogged passed them, "Get to the front fucking door before Freddy moves his ass in front of it!"

Liam bolted after Mike and Amelia. Alan secured his shotgun, the safety still on, and followed.

The four turned the corner at the end of the hallway, into the entry area, and Mike cursed as he saw Freddy already standing in front of the doors, his speed once again supernaturally unmatched, "Fucking hell!" Mike turned, "Alright, new plan! We're going to the security office."

Amelia's fingers tightened around Mike's hand as she took the lead back up the hallway, "Mike, why are they chasing us? They seemed just fine earlier!"

Mike shook his head, "S'not them! It’s the damn Children! Fucking _Liam_ set them off."

Liam actually shrieked when she flung open the door to the dining room and revealed Bonnie glowering at them, pupils burning white. Bonnie lunged at Amelia, but Mike threw himself in the rabbit's way, Amelia already falling back from the open door with shock.

The rabbit's momentum tossed the unfortunate night guard into the wall with a crash, Amelia cried out, "Mike!"

Mike was back up almost immediately, pushing himself to his feet unsteadily. The night guard spat out a mouthful of blood, as he planted himself protectively in front of the group. The bunny stood, wary, and Mike gave it a feral grin, calling upon that familiar rage. He leapt at the animatronic, shoving him as hard he could. Goldie's furious strength fueled him for a second, just enough to get the rabbit stumbling backwards.

He ran, the room swirling like smears of paint, ignoring the way his head pulsed in protest at him using Goldie so soon after his encounter with William.

Alan skidded behind them and Mike shot back, making sure he and Liam wouldn’t overshoot, "Left hallway! Left hallway!"

He slammed open the door, thank goodness Chica seemed to be holed up in the kitchen- or else she was still back in the dining room somewhere. He fell into the office, grabbing the tablet from the table and flipping through the cameras as Amelia, Alan, and Liam stumbled in after him, gasping and heaving.

Alan gasped, "Son, you mind telling me what the hell is going on? I could’ve sworn you were talking to the robots!"

Mike snapped, "Not right now, Alan!"

He blanched and lunged across the table to hit the door button. Amelia jumped as the door slammed down, "What-?”

A second later, something slammed into the heavy metal door, effectively answering her question.

Liam sagged against the file cabinets, "That was a close one, how’d you know no one would be in this hallway?"

"Chica likes to cook. She was probably in the kitchens, asshole. And she’s easier to deal with than Foxy." He nodded at the pounding on the doors, which ceased a second later.

Mike hit the button immediately and Amelia gaped, "No, don’t open the door!"

Mike flicked through the camera, hardly looking at the three of them, "Chill the fuck out, Foxy's back in Pirate’s Cove. With any luck he’ll stay there on cool down for a bit. His legs are all rusted to shit."

Liam raised an eyebrow, "How long will he be in there do you think?"

"I don’t know, probably as long as Bonnie is there." He flicked through the cameras and hissed, "Yeah he's in that hallway."

Clanking emanated from the cameras, "Chica's definitely in the kitchen already."

Liam eyed the hallway they’d come down, "No ones there, right now?"

"Shut up, asshole, I’m trying to concentrate. You’re the reason we're knee deep in this shit."

"Me? I didn’t touch the damn things!"

Mike risked glancing up, "You killed four kids and stuffed them in robot suits, fuckface! What did you think was going to happen? There are four vengeful ghosts hunting every single Night Guard every damn night because _you_ are a _fucking psychopath!_"

Liam wrinkled his nose.

Amelia stared at him, wide eyed, and edged closer to Alan, asking him quietly, "Do you have anymore shotguns? I’d feel a little safer with a weapon in my hands."

Mike answered her, "Baseball bat, behind the cabinet. I brought it in once, just in case. Never got to use it."

The two turned, searching for it. Amelia found it with a muffled, 'ah-ha!' and she pulled it out, fingers winding around the handle as she puffed hair out of her face.

Mike glanced at them, "Wait, where's Liam?"

Amelia blinked, "Where'd he go?"

Mike flipped through the cameras, "Oh fuck, the idiot decided to leave. He’s headed towards the dining room."

Alan shook his head, "I woulda killed him if he’d stayed."

Mike hit the door button on the left, "The shithead isn’t our problem anymore. Right now, we need to stay alive."


	22. sleepy child

**Part 5: To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield**

William eyed Alan and Amelia searching for the aforementioned bat behind the table. Schmidt was back to perusing the cameras. Well, he’d stuck around long enough.

He backed out of the room, eyeing the dark hallway before darting down it, the hallway warm compared to the perpetually cold security office. 

The door to the dining room was still flung wide open. Liam poked his head around the doorframe before edging out towards the hallway that led to the front door. A dark shape loomed near its entrance and he decided he’d rather not chance that way just yet.

He couldn’t hide here, though, and Freddy blocked the hallway and consequently, the bathrooms which branched off near the entrance of the pizzeria. Liam swallowed. There was one place the animatronics would never think to look.

A plan sparked and William grinned. He knew exactly what to do.

He snuck quickly and quietly across the dining room, disappearing into Parts and Services.

Freddy watched him go and then lumbered after him, optics burning. The Child was in control and eager for its revenge.

Freddy opened the door, scanning the empty room. Spare parts lined the walls, several replacement suits standing empty. Spring Bonnie lay limply against the back wall, utterly still, like a puppet with its strings cut.

Freddy waited, but the Purple Guard seemed to have vanished. The animatronic made a circuit around the room, but the Purple Guard was well and truly gone.

Freddy chuffed and left, eyes burning.

Spring Bonnie moved, eyes opening. It slowly stood, stiff and unnatural as William moved inside it, stretching, "Well, that worked just fine." He moved his fingers, watching the old suit shift carefully around it. "Well, you may be older and a bit worn, but you’ll do just fine."

William pushed open the door of Parts and Services, glancing towards the entrance of the pizzeria. He could run for it now, but… there was still Schmidt and the others. The animatronics should be able to take care of them. He started for the hallway and then paused.

Mike had already shown just how adept he was at beating the animatronics. He couldn’t afford to leave anything to chance.

William started for the security office, he couldn’t have them spilling his secrets.

* * *

Mike tried to pretend he wasn’t afraid.

He was though, just a little bit. Amelia and Alan stood, crouched behind him, watching him flip through the cameras, their respective bat and shotgun raised in preparation of attack. Their presences were comforting, but Goldie's continued absence was all too worrisome. That and the power was draining far too fast for his tastes. Besides, who was to say whether The Rules were even going to be obeyed? There were too many variables. Ben shook, silent in the back of his head. He hadn’t said anything for a long time and that worried him as well.

Mike flicked the lights, nearly jumping out of his skin as Bonnie stood leering at him.

He slammed the door, voice cracking as he shouted, "I’m not the bad guy here!" Bonnie lurked by the window, eyes black, pupils white pinpricks. He was utterly unrecognizable. Mike met the animatronic's eye, brows furrowed, "I’ll get you fuckers out of this, just hang tight. And give me a damn break!"

Alan glanced down at Mike, "Say, son, you’re talking like you uh, know them."

Mike opened the door, "Bonnie’s a little shit. Freddy refuses to call me Mike because he’s got a stick up his ass-“ Mike slammed the right door on Chica's unhinged toothy grin, "Chica is actually an angel," he shouted at the closed door, the power dropping steadily, "When she isn’t being a little bitch!" He flicked through the cameras once, "And Foxy is smarter than his dumbass accent makes him seem." He added, yelling again, this time out the left door into the unresponsive darkness, "And Ben is fond of him so it would really suck ass if he killed the guy he’s hitching a ride with!"

Alan gaped, "You're _friends_ with them?"

Amelia glanced at Alan, "Who’s Ben?"

Alan shrugged, "The hell if I know."

Mike cursed, "How in the _fuck_ is the power dropping this fast? Alan this shit is at twenty and it’s not even one!"

Ben finally spoke, "_The Rules… they’re not following them anymore._"

"Ben?"

Alan and Amelia traded worried glances.

"_Sorry, Mike. I’m… I’m scared._"

"It’s okay, little buddy. The animatronics will be fine. We'll be fine."

_13%_

Mike winced.

"_I’m scared of Liam- of William, Mike. Do you think he’ll- he’ll kill them again? Somehow?_"

Mike shook his head, "Nope, William is fucked, kid. Freddy’ll tear him limb from limb. Don’t you worry."

Amelia swallowed, voice strained and thin, "Mike, who are you talking too?"

Mike frowned at the cameras, "What the fuck is that?"

Alan and Amelia leaned over his shoulder. Alan frowned, "I’ve never seen that animatronic before."

“**_ThAt iS SpRiNg BoNNie cOmE tO hAUnT uS._**"

Mike jolted, "Goldie?"

"**_YeS. I'm sTiLL tiReD. BuT I cAn bE oF heLP._**"

"Wait if that’s Spring Bonnie… but it’s broken- not unless…" Mike’s eyes widened, "_Motherfucker-!_”

The power died with a hiss, and the three, well, five of them, really, were left alone in the dark and the quiet.

Mike waited for the Toreador March with bated breath. Instead, he heard a chuckle, and then William speaking, "Uh-oh, Mike. Looks like you’ve run out of power."

Mike stood, blinking in the darkness, fingers searching for the flashlight on his belt, "Fuck off, Afton! The others will be here in a minute and they’ll kick your ugly ass five ways to Sunday!"

William laughed, "They’re already here. And for some reason, they think I’m one of them. Imagine that, Mike. All those Night Guards dead for nothing. All they had to do was wear a Fazbear suit to survive."

Mike finally got hold of his flashlight and he grabbed it, flicking it up to shine at the left doorway.

Amelia squeaked.

Spring Bonnie loomed, faded yellow-green in the light, grinning against the darkness. Behind him lurked the other animatronics, still and waiting.

Alan cocked his shotgun, disengaging his safety. Amelia braced herself, ready to swing.

Mike swallowed, "Do your worst, asshat."

William lunged. Mike braced himself, dropping the flashlight with a clatter as he thought desperately, '_Anytime now, Goldie!_'

Mike, or not Mike opened his eyes half a second later, eyes dripping black, mouth twisting up into a smile, pupils white pinpricks. Mike reacted, golden light filling the room as he caught William's outstretched hand, the shimmering outline of Golden Freddy surrounding the Night Guard protectively.

William's eyes widened comically.

Mike spoke, voice not his own, "**_IT'S ME._**"

Alan gaped, shotgun braced on his shoulder, ready to fire, "What in the _hell…?_"

Amelia was more proactive. She swung her bat with all her might, "Eat shit, dickhead!"

The bat shattered on the bunny's head.

Amelia frowned dumbly at the fractured, splintered handle of the bat left in her hands.

William snarled, head twisting to face her, arm still held back by Golden Freddy, "You really think that _you_ of all people, could do me in?"

And then, rather anticlimactically, but unsurprisingly- considering all the abuse the mechanics had been through- the endoskeleton of the Spring Bonnie suit snapped back into place with a sickening _crack_. William howled, gargling, bones crunching, something _inside_ him making a sort of spine-crawling squelching noise. He stumbled backwards, wheezing brokenly.

Golden Freddy stared.

Amelia took a step backwards, "Oh my goodness."

William stumbled before sliding down the wall, choking, eyes burning with fury, fixed on Mike and Golden Freddy. Finally, mercifully, his unintelligible gargles stopped, blood slowly staining the security office floor.

William Vincent Afton was dead.

The four animatronics stood stiff. Mike glanced back at them warily. He blinked, as Ben gasped, "_Oh, Mike!_"

"Fuck, what’s happening _now?_"

"_It’s beautiful!_"

Golden Freddy murmured, "**_HeRe, LoOk aNd SeE._**"

The pizzeria turned gray and pale. The animatronics glowed and the wispy Children, stood staring at the limp Spring Bonnie, purple blood spilling out to stain the floor. They turned to look at Mike, white eyes wide. For one brief moment, he could see them as they had once been.

A golden haired little girl, pigtails bouncing, a watery smile in place, waved cheerfully from behind Chica. A dark girl with black hair clung to Bonnie, she smiled at Mike and stuck out her tongue. Freddy's Child was a shy boy, brown hair spilling into his eyes. The Child hiding behind Foxy pulled at his runaway red curls, smile small and utterly grateful.

They waved and then, one by one, melted away into white light, dispersing into the ether, like dust pushed by wind. Their smiles lingered full of glowing joy. Chica was the last to go, she laughed soundlessly and then was gone.

Mike blinked stumbling as the world returned to normal and Amelia and Alan faced him worriedly. The form of Golden Freddy flickered and then it too was gone.

He could feel Ben's overwhelming sadness and joy pulling at him. The animatronics towered at the entrance, probably affected by the absence of the Children. Mike shook his head, "They’ll- they’ll be fine. They’ll let us pass."

The animatronics dispersed soundlessly at his words, drifting away as if they were almost lost now.

Alan spoke, "Son, I want to know what the hell happened here, tonight."

Mike held a hand to his head, feeling it ache. He grimaced, rolling his shoulders underneath his bloodstained shirt, "I'll get to that. I just want to get fucking changed before we do anything else."

Amelia dropped the bat handle, rubbing her sweaty palms on her black slacks, "Well, that was the most exciting first date I’ve ever had." 

Mike gaped, "_Date?_"

She reached up on her tiptoes and kissed his cheek, "Date." She added, "Unless you don’t want it to be, that is."

Mike gaped, a hand going to hold the cheek where she'd kissed him, "No! No, I do… just… _why?_ After all that shit?"

Amelia shrugged, "You threw yourself in front of a killer robot for me and I got to hit a murderer in the head with a baseball bat. Isn’t that everyone's dream?"

Mike blinked, feeling his cheeks grow warm.

Alan gaped at them, "_No!_ No, actually it’s _not._" He shook his head, unchambering the rounds in his shotgun, "You’re crazier than he is."


	23. spark desire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry just a short one this time! XD

**Part 5: To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield**

To be honest, cleaning up the remains of the Purple Guard, the man who had ruined so many lives, was the easiest part of those early morning hours. Mike, with the help of Golden Freddy and an unsettled Alan, hauled the broken animatronic that held William's remains out into the back of his pickup.

Alan had told him he’d take care of it, they had, apparently, a usual place.

Mike swallowed at that particular fact, watching Alan go and wondering if he’d be back.

Amelia handed him a rumpled warm sandwich and plopped down in one of the dining room's seats to eat it and watch the animatronics sit on the stage. Mike had sat next to her, once again wearing Scott's old uniform, his bloody, probably stained beyond repair, shirt in his car. In maybe fifteen minutes Amelia had slumped and then fallen asleep, dark curls obscuring her head pillowed in her hands.

Mike softened as he watched her sleep.

He stood a moment later, cautiously making his way towards the animatronics gathered on the stage.

"Hey, you- uh, you guys okay?"

Freddy blinked, "We are perfectly fine, Michael."

Mike pushed the brim of his hat upwards with his thumb, "You don’t look like it." Mike's mouth twisted wryly, "You all look like shit, actually."

Bonnie lifted his head out of his hands, "It’s just weird, Mike, that’s all."

Chica sat beside him, staring absently at her creepy cupcake, "I miss my Child. I mean, I’m glad she’s moved on and she’s not… not trapped here anymore. But I just miss her."

Foxy tilted his head, "Ay, lass. I think we all be missing 'em."

Freddy sighed, "That and the… the Children put some strain on us tonight."

Mike scoffed, "Yeah, no shit."

Foxy asked cautiously, "How is Ben faring, lad?"

Mike hummed, listening for a moment before speaking, "As well as can be expected."

Freddy added, "And how is Goldie?"

"Resting. Tonight was a bit much for him." Mike added, "I mean what with William fucking Afton bashing my brains in." He paled a little, "_Fuck_, still can’t believe I actually died."

Chica started, "What? What do you mean you died?"

Mike raised an eyebrow, "Where do you think all the blood on my shirt came from?"

There was a moment of shocked silence before the animatronics came alive with outrage, speaking over each other in a clamorous thunder.

Foxy snapped, "Ah wish William was still alive so ah could wring his cowardly neck with me own hands!"

"What a- what a- a buttbreath birdbrained fudge nozzle diaper baby-"

"Oh, Mikey, does anything still hurt, are you sure you’re all right? Do you need anything?"

"You died, Michael? Right in front of us? In the dining room?"

Mike shushed them, “Guys, be quiet! You’ll wake up, Amelia!"

The animatronics calmed obediently, Bonnie still fuming. Chica whispered, "I’m just glad you’re okay, now, Mike."

Mike's lips thinned, tilting wryly upwards, "Yeah. That makes two of us."

For the second time in those predawn hours, he was interrupted by Alan speaking cautiously from behind him, "Well, son. You got something you want to tell me about?"

He'd gotten back from… wherever he’d taken Liam.

Mike turned and cleared his throat nervously, speaking low in order to avoid waking Amelia, "Uh, Alan, these are uh, these are the animatronics. You know them already."

Alan warily moved closer, coming to stand by the night guard in front of the stage. Mike swallowed, watching the older man's careful scrutiny of the robots. Finally he settled on, "All those people you killed. Did you know?

Freddy shook his head, "No."

Alan seemed satisfied with the answer, even though his jaw tightened thinking about the slaughter the robots were responsible for. The janitor turned to Mike, "Now, son, you mind explaining to me what the hell that Golden… thing was?"

Mike stammered, "Ah, I, Ah. That was Golden Freddy. It’s… it’s complicated."

Alan leaned forward, eyeing Mike's wristwatch before leaning back and raising an eyebrow, "Well, Mike. It’s only two. We’ve got four hours."

Mike nodded, "Aw, fuck. Alright." He scratched the back of his head, "So… I guess…. It began um… So do you remember the Bite of ‘87?”

"I’ve heard about it, yeah."

"Well, see there was this kid, named Benjamin…"


	24. walk the fire

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> One more chapter to go after this one!!!

**Part 5: To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield**

Mike lay on his old couch, staring up at the ceiling, blue eyes tracing the cracks in the drywall. He should be doing something. It was seven in the morning, he should be catching up on his sleep before his next job. Or he should be studying for the test he’d planned on taking. Instead, he just sat, waiting for the other proverbial shoe to drop.

Alan, surprisingly, had taken his sordid shitty ghost story remarkably well, though the whole Goldie and Ben thing had made him blanch considerably. Especially when Goldie had decided that Mike's storytelling wasn’t good enough and Alan needed his _personal_ input.

Mike sighed and closed his eyes, feeling his forehead ache.

Ben murmured, "_…Mike?_"

Mike frowned, "Yeah kid?"

The boy's voice was filled with disbelief, "_I think… I think… I’ve done everything I needed to do._"

Mike opened his eyes, wincing against the light, "What?" 

"_I think I’m ready to go, Mike._"

Mike sat up, "Wait, what? You can… you can do that?"

Ben was quiet, "_Yeah, I think so. Goldie would stay, he’s… he’s not… not dependent on me. He’ll probably even be better connected to you once I’m… I’m gone._"

The night guard blinked, "Ben are you… are you sure? Is this what you want?"

"_Yeah. Yeah, actually, I think this is. My friends are fine, the purple man won’t bother them anymore. Foxy isn’t… Foxy isn’t sad anymore._"

"Kid…"

"_And maybe, maybe if I’m gone, my body will go too. And then mom doesn’t have to keep waiting._"

"Ben… fuck, you’re positive this is what you want?"

"_Yes. I'm tired, Mike. I’m ready to rest._"

Mike ran a hand down his face, "Aw fuck, Ben. Yeah, alright… it’s okay. You can go, you can rest."

He sounded so happy, "_Really?_"

"Yeah, go. Go find out what happens after… after everything."

Goldie spoke up, both infinitely tired and unbelievably fond all at once, "**_BenJaMiN, yoU aRe nO lOnGeR bOuNd tO mE, yOu aRE fReE tO gO._**"

"_Thank you, Goldie._"

There was a moment and Mike could’ve sworn he felt an itch in the back of his head, a breath of wind on his face, the warm caress of a spring breeze.

Ben's last words were small and trembling with excitement, "_Oh, Mike, it’s brighter than I imagined-!_”

And then, like the sudden snap of a cold spell or a star fading on the horizon, Ben's faint presence winked out.

Mike felt most decidedly empty.

Goldie whispered very quietly, "_**I BeLieVe tHaT wE sHaLL miSs hiM vErY mUcH."**_

Mike agreed silently, the itch in his mind having transferred to his eyes, leaving them feeling hot and wet. He made no move to rub them and instead leaned back into the couch, blurry vision finding the ceiling once more.

* * *

About four weeks later, after William was most decidedly confirmed dead, Al blinked at Mike, cigar wilting, "You can’t be serious!"

Mike crossed his arms, "Damn right I’m serious. Alan and I fixed Foxy up the other week. You can reopen Pirate's Cove anytime!"

"But- but, the horrible rumors!"

Mike raised an eyebrow, "Would go away once everyone sees Foxy is nothing to be afraid of."

Al squinted at Mike, completely confused.

Mike rolled his eyes, "During the daytime. Look, I'll- I'll take full responsibility if he bites someone’s head off. Not that it’ll happen, but if it does you’re off the hook."

Al spluttered. Mike added, "Look, Al, think of all the money Foxy will make. He was one of the most popular attractions back in the day." 

That gave the man pause. He asked slowly, "This was all your idea. If he malfunctions again, you’ll make sure everyone knows that?"

"Abso-fucking-lutely."

Al sighed, rubbing his forehead as he reminded Mike yet again, "Please, no swearing, Mike."

Mike winced and shrugged apologetically.

Al thought for a moment, probably mentally calculating the risks versus the rewards. He finally smiled, and reached over the desk to shake Mike's hand, "You’ve got yourself a deal, Schmidt."

"I do have another request, sir."

Al raised an eyebrow, "And what’s that?"

"Liam has been missing for four weeks now, are you… are you intending on hiring anyone to fill his position?"

Al sighed, "Look, Schmidt, I'd love to give you the daytime security job, but you're just too valuable on the nightshift-“ 

"Well, that’s the thing sir, I’ve already got someone who wants it. And who’s as good as I am at it."

Al scoffed incredulously, "Who?"

"One of your cashiers, Amelia."

Al paused thoughtfully, "Have you been… planning this, Schmidt?"

Mike plastered a fake grin in place, "Uh, maybe?"

Al stared at him.

Mike pretended he wasn’t sweating bullets.

A moment later, Al's face split into a wide grin, "Good! I like an employee with initiative! You’ve got yourself a job." 

"And Pirate's Cove?"

"And Pirate’s Cove." Al absently rubbed his fingers together, "We could have a grand reopening, maybe hand out some flyers for overtime- yes, and-“

Mike took that as his cue to leave, Al eagerly brainstorming ways for Pirate's Cove to rake in cash. He was just lucky Al hadn’t needed much convincing.

Amelia was waiting for him outside of Al's office. She smiled brightly, "Did he go for it?"

Mike grinned softly, although, to be fair, his grins were always softer around Amelia, "You’re looking at the new head of daytime security. And I’m pretty sure Al will approach you about a nightshift job later today."

Amelia took his hand, "Well in that case, we can see if the kitchens have any celebratory leftover pizza." Mike flushed as she pulled him out of the dark hallway and into the light and noise of Freddy Fazbear's pizzeria.

Mike just wished that Ben could be there to see it. 


	25. Turn the lights off

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> The End

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This is it!! The last chapter!!! 
> 
> This is actually the most ambitious fanfic project I’ve ever written *and* finished!!! Thank you all so much for reading and commenting!

**Part 5: To strive, to seek, to find, and not to yield**

"Goldie," Mike asked quietly, "How long will you… be here? Y'know, stick around?"

"**_WhAt dO yOu mEAn?_**"

Mike surveyed the bustling restaurant, pitching his voice low so only the incorporeal animatronic could hear his words, "Ben left. I mean, he moved on. How long am I going to be haunted by a golden bear animatronic?"

"**_YoU aRe tHe NiGhT GuArD._**"

Mike's lips thinned, "Well, not anymore…"

Goldie repeated firmly, "**_You ArE tHE NigHt GuaRd._**"

Mike sighed, a hand rubbing his forehead, "And?"

"**_YoU cAn sEpArAte fRoM mE aT aNyTiMe. HoWeVeR, I wOulD nOt bE aBle tO fiNd aNoTheR vEsSel sO eAsiLy. I wOuLd bE gReaTly diMiNisHeD uNtiL I fOuNd a… sUiTabLE rEpLaCemEnT._**" 

"So you could, but it would be a fucking pain in the ass?"

Goldie's voice was thick with amusement, an unspoken chuckle pressing against Mike's ribs, "**_EsSeNTiallY._**"

"You’ll stick around as long as I’m… here?"

"**_YeS._**"

Mike nodded, "Good to know."

"**_I wOuLd bE… uPsEt iF oR, wHeN, yOu mOvE oN._**"

He couldn’t help but feel a rush of affection at that. Better get a move on before he got too sappy. Mike shook his head, moving from his perch on the wall to duck into the hallway towards the security office, "I don’t think you’ll be getting rid of me anytime soon. This place has been packed since Pirate's Cove reopened."

Goldie hummed appreciatively.

Mike kept track of the restaurant from the quiet of the security office for several hours, which looked much more reassuring in the daylight. He looked up from the cameras when Amelia knocked on the doorframe, long hair tied back, "Um, Mike there’s someone asking for you?"

He frowned, "What are you doing here, your shift isn't for another… five hours?"

"Alan asked me to do some overtime and help Monica. I said yes." She rolled her eyes, "Apparently Al still hasn’t hired a new cashier. Now, the customer?"

Mike nodded and sighed, standing up, "Better not be someone asking for the manager again."

Amelia laughed as he followed her, dark eyes twinkling as she glanced back at him, "That only happened once. And you know you enjoyed it."

Mike shrugged, smile unabashedly vicious, "Not my fault Al told me to deal with things like that." 

They turned the corner and Amelia pointed out a small woman with dark graying hair, her back turned. Mike strode up to them, doing his best to be polite, Goldie snorted at the thought of it, "Ah, ma'am, you asked for a security guard?"

The woman turned and Mike froze. It had only been two months, but he remembered her… how couldn’t he? Pamela Gonzales blinked, brows drawing down as she exclaimed with disbelief, "You’re the journalist!"

Amelia eyed him curiously as he tripped clumsily over his words, trying to come up with a believable story, "Ah, p- part time? What- what is it that you needed Ms. Gonzales?" The unspoken 'why are you here, out of all places' made the woman's mouth twist. 

She stared at him for a moment before shaking herself, "I'm terribly sorry. I know this is silly, but, is there anyone here named Mike?"

“Only me...?"

Her eyes found his name tag, "Oh! Well, I…" she turned, to the person behind her, "Well, you were right. I don’t know how you knew-"

"Mom!" The child pushed past her, brown eyes bright, smile wide, "Are you Mike?"

It couldn’t possibly be…

"**_BeN?_**"

If Benjamin's mother heard a disturbing difference in the security guard's voice, she didn’t comment.

It was undoubtedly Ben, however. Smaller and thinner than a child of his age should be, and very pale, but it was him. The scar disappearing into his hairline proved it, "I- I'm still having trouble with remembering things, but I know- I _know_ I’m supposed to give you this!" Ben lunged forward, nearly falling as if he couldn’t carry his own weight, and wrapped his arms around the shocked security guard.

After a moment, Mike tentatively wrapped his arms around Benjamin in return. The boy beamed at him, "_Thank you, Mike!_"

Mike let him go as he turned to his mom, "Can I go play with Foxy now?"

Mike stared at them both and, noticing Pamela's reluctance, spoke up, mouth dry, "He’s completely functional. There will _never_ be an accident again."

She met his eyes and nodded once, "Sure sweetie, you can, just… be careful."

Benjamin nodded earnestly and then trotted off towards Pirate's Cove, at a very slow sedate pace, little hands holding on to tables and chairs for support as he passed. He was probably still getting used to walking after his long coma.

Pamela turned on him, "How did he know you?"

Mike held up his hands and lied through his teeth, "I… I honestly don’t know." 

She narrowed her eyes suspiciously at him, but let it go. She sighed, "He saw the article in the newspaper awhile back about Pirate's Cove reopening. He was so sure we needed to go here. I didn’t want him to come back and I certainly didn’t believe him when he said he needed to find someone named Mike."

Mike shrugged, "Maybe my name was in the article?"

"Maybe."

Mike ventured carefully, "If, I may ask… did… when did Benjamin wake up?"

Pamela smiled in remembrance, eyes wet, "Six months ago. Six months ago, I got my baby back." She sniffed and then, muttering her excuses, fled towards Pirate's Cove.

Amelia stood by Mike, watching the near deafening crowd of children by Foxy, "Ben… that was the fifth ghost you told me about, wasn’t he?"

Mike watched the boy hug Foxy with the same bone-crushing grip he’d just greeted Mike with, "Yeah, he was."

The children laughed, the no longer haunted animatronics were gentle with their tiny audience, the Night Guard's job was done, and the establishment known as Freddy Fazbear's Pizzeria quietly continued on to better and brighter things.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on tumblr here: https://ford-ye-fiji.tumblr.com/
> 
> Tho just a heads up, I’m hunting for fnaf blogs to follow, I don’t have much, if any, fnaf content on there rn


End file.
